Checkmate
by x-gemarrrr
Summary: 'Molly walked over to the door, gasping as her whole body went numb as her eyes fell on the television. "Did you miss me?" It couldn't be possible. It couldn't be him. But then all of a sudden everything made sense, the missed calls and the worried texts. He was back.' My take on what could happen next. Spoilers for all 3 series. Set straight after HLV.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is an idea that I had to keep me going for another year or so until the new series. I am a Molly and Sherlock fan so there will be tones of that (not too over the top though.) but there'll also be lots for the other characters to be getting on with too. I'm a bit rubbish at explaining my stories so please read it before you cast judgement :P Enjoy!**

* * *

It was nine o'clock and she was late for work. Molly hated being late, hated it when people's judgemental stares were aimed at her as she walked through the door, when a blush would rise on her cheeks as she muttered some apology or came up with some rubbish excuse for her lateness. And that is exactly what she would have to do.

The truth would not be understandable to other people and most definitely not an excuse to be late so she would have to say she felt ill or something. The actual reason was that she had been up all night, anxiously staring at her phone, waiting for a text from John or Mary to give her any sort of news or update. The last thing that John had sent her had caused her to panic and worry. It had read:

_**'Sherlock is in trouble. He's killed Magnusson and is being deported. He's not allowed any more visitors, I'm sorry. Thought you should know. JW.'**_

Molly had read the text over and over, not managing to compute what John was telling her. How could Sherlock have killed someone? Why was he being deported? Would she ever see him again? Just as she thought she might go crazy with the worry, her phone rang and she answered it quickly, Mary's voice greeting her.

"I'm so sorry for my husband. He's useless when it comes to giving out bad news." She said, her voice light-hearted but Molly could hear a strain behind it that she was sure was to do with the situation with Sherlock. "A text message? Really John?" Molly heard her say off to John who's mumbles of reply were inaudible over the phone.

"What's going on?" Was all that Molly had managed to choke out, her hand gripping the phone tightly as if that would make Mary answer faster.

"Sherlock and John thought that they had Magnusson trapped but he was even more dangerous that they had originally thought and so Sherlock did the only thing that would have stopped him being a threat to anyone else and shot him." Mary explained and Molly felt her stomach twist. She couldn't believe it or face it. Sherlock had done the thing that he usually condemned. He had become the kind of man that he usually tried to catch. Sherlock was a murde-.

"You can't blame him though Molly." Mary had interrupted her thoughts as if she could read her mind over the phone. "It needed to be done. He did the right thing." She added and Molly could hear another mumble from John over the phone that she couldn't decipher. Mary shushed him.

"Okay... fine." Molly replied, feeling anything but fine. "So why is he being deported? Can't Mycroft do anything?" She asked, her worries about Sherlock's actions turning into fear for his safety.

"He has done something by getting him deported. This is apparently the best decision for Sherlock." Mary responded and Molly opened her mouth to protest but was stopped. "I'm sorry Molly, we have to go but I will keep you updated, I promise. He'll be alright Molly. He's Sherlock Holmes." Mary had said, her tone trying to be comforting but Molly felt dazed and confused and had hung up the phone without even trying to say goodbye. It's true that he was Sherlock Holmes but Sherlock had also never killed before. This was a different situation to any he had ever been in. He had probably not planned it or seen it coming and so Sherlock must have been unprepared which was not the norm for him at all.

This was so different to how the fall had been that Molly couldn't help the fear spreading through her. She had known what was going on when he planned to jump off St Bart's. She had felt partly in control and so the worry wasn't quite as bad. This was so different. She was completely in the dark and part of her was certain that Sherlock was too. This thought terrified her.

And so, she had stayed awake most of the night, staring at her phone and waiting for news. Any kind of news of Sherlock's fate until she couldn't stay awake any longer, her eyes losing the battle to stay open and the next thing Molly knew, it was quarter to nine in the morning and she was cursing and running around her flat, desperately trying to get ready for work, not even bothering to switch on the television to see the news headlines like she usually did. Rushing, she quickly grabbed her bag and coat, flinging her arms through it as she left her flat, letting the door slam shut behind her.

She raced down the road to the tube station, hoping that the rush hour wouldn't make her any more late than she was. When she arrived at her destination and had climbed the stairs back to daylight, her phone began to vibrate and ping, a backlog of texts and alerts making their way through after it her phone had picked up signal away from the underground. Quickly, but still trying to walk as fast as she could, she fumbled in her pocket and pulled it out, her eyes widening as she saw that she had several missed calls from random people she hardly spoke to anymore and a few messages. She started with the texts, skimming over names she barely remembered to find the one's she wanted to read. She opened Mary's first.

_**'Have you seen the news?'**_ Molly frowned as she read it, wishing that Mary had elaborated a little more. Annoyed, she flicked her finger over the screen to open John's message.

_**'He's back Molly. JW'**_ Was all that his text said and Molly sighed, slightly frustrated that the Watson's seemed to enjoy being cryptic. She hoped that by 'he' that John meant Sherlock but something about the mass of notifications on her phone made her doubt it. For some reason, she began to feel a cold wave of nerves flow through her as she opened her last text, only a slight relief coming when she realised who had sent it. Sherlock.

_**'Where are you? Are you safe? SH.'**_ Molly frowned in confusion and worry. Why was Sherlock worrying about her when he was the one that had nearly been deported? Her mind was so busy trying to answer her questions that she hadn't even realised that she had made her way to work and managed to pass through the corridors without any of the questions and stares that she had been worried about.

Molly came to a stop slowly and looked around, noticing suddenly that no-one was rushing down the corridors and that there was an eerie sort of calm that had replaced the usual early morning buzz. She frowned and began to walk towards the lab again, looking down at her phone as, once more, it vibrated.

_**'Where are you? SH.' **_Molly looked up from her phone as she went through the doors and saw some of her colleagues huddled into a corner, all talking quietly and urgently to each other.

"What's going on guys?" She asked and they all jumped, spinning around to look at her as her voice echoed around the room.

"Haven't you seen the TV?" One of them asked and Molly shook her head, the feeling of nervousness that she had before making it's way back through her. The group all looked over at another door and Molly walked over to it, gasping as her whole body went numb as her eyes fell on the television that stood in the room it lead to.

_"Did you miss me?"  
_

It couldn't be possible. It couldn't be him. But then all of a sudden everything made sense, the missed calls and the worried texts. She hadn't watched the television all morning otherwise she would have known before. John's text had said it and now she understood. He was back. Moriarty was back.

She jumped and managed to tear her eyes away from the chilling picture on the screen as her phone went again. She realised that her hand was shaking as she opened Sherlock's latest text.

_**'Reply Molly. Where are you? SH'**_ Molly stared at her phone, her head whirring before she clumsily moved her fingers to type out her response.

_**'At St Bart's. Is he really back? M x'**_ She sent her message and waited a little to long for her liking to get a reply.

_**'Get away from there.'**_ Molly blinked and re-read the text a few times, her pulse quickening each time she did. Did Sherlock think she was in trouble?

_**'Where to? M x'**_

**_'Anywhere. Just find the first taxi you see and get away from St Bart's.'_** Molly span on her heel as soon as she read the text, her bag swinging into the air and bashing her legs as she walked as fast as she could out of the building. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she tried desperately not to look at anyone else, an irriational part of her fearing that if she did, she would be faced by Moriarty.  
As she came back out onto the street, she jogged to the road and thanked God silently in her head as she held out her arm out to flag down a cab that was about to pass her. She opened the door, her mind whirring as to where she should go. She had no idea where Sherlock was or John and Mary for that matter so she couldn't join them. What about Mrs Hudson? She'd be on her own and probably freaking out too. Going there seemed like a good idea.

"Baker Street please." She said as she climbed in, letting her heart slow in pace as the taxi drove on and she took out her phone again.

_**'In a cab on my way to Baker Street now. What's going on? M x'**_ She typed, huffing in frustration when she waited for a response and non came. Of course. That was typical of him. Over the past few months, Molly had felt completely in the dark, only hearing about what was happening to Sherlock through other people or even the media. Things as serious as him getting shot had been communicated to her through the work grapevine and the sudden (and rather irriating) news of him getting a girlfriend came when one of the girls at the lab had brought in her daily magazine. And now this. Sherlock had killed someone and nearly been deported and Moriarty, a man whom everyone thought was dead, was back and she had to cope with a few measly and very uninformative text messages to understand what on earth was going on.

Molly sighed and ran her hand through her hair, messing up the ponytail that she had quickly put it into in her mad rush that morning. Her eyes flicked up to look out of the window and she frowned as she began to compute where in London they were. Her eyes caught the glimpse of the sandwich shop next to Sherlock's flat and she shifted in her chair.

"Excuse me, I think you've gone past it." Molly said, leaning forward towards the driver.

"Oh, I don't think we have Molly Hooper. I decided that we're going somewhere else if you don't mind?" The driver's voice was instantly recognisable. It was a hard voice to forget and the sound of it made Molly's insides turn cold as she realised: He was in the car with her.  
Panicking, she looked at the door next to her and saw that it was locked. Just as nausea and fear hit her, her phone began to ring and she looked down at it, her heart leaping as she realised that Sherlock was trying to ring her.

"I wouldn't answer that if I were you. If you do I'll only get mad." Moriarty sang the last word, drawing it out with a two note tune. "I don't like being mad at you Molly, I really don't." The Irish tones of his voice filling Molly's ears and she looked at her phone helplessly, wishing that she could pick it up and tell Sherlock where she was but all she could do was wait, wait and wonder where on earth Moriarty was taking her and what he had planned. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

* * *

**Please please please let me know what you think. I have never really tried to write an ongoing story, usually I stick to a couple of chapters so I'm a bit nervous! Your reviews will help me decide whether or not to carry on!  
**

**Next chapter: We catch up with the Watsons and the Holmes brothers straight after HLV. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow. Thank you all so much for the support! The amount of reviews and follows I've got already is utterly amazing! I hope that this story can keep you interested! I'm certainly enjoying writing it anyway! Now to see what Sherlock and the rest of his gang are up to. :P...(gang?)**

* * *

John paced along side the car as Mary, who was leaning against it, watched him, her eyes scanning his face warily for the reaction that she knew was coming. He had been okay when the news had first arrived but after time to think on it, she could tell that it was starting to bother him.

"You alright dear?" She asked but was merely ignored by her husband who continued to pace, his eyes occasionally flicking over to the plane that had just left and was now returning back to where it had been a mere five minutes ago.

"I'd speak before you explode John, you're going a little pink." Mycroft said from where he stood a few metres away from them. Mary resisted the urge to smile as she saw annoyance flash over John's face.

"Alright." John stopped walking and faced Mycroft, his tone short. "Alright. I'm going to ask the most obvious question in the world and you'll probably roll your eyes at me but I want to know." He began, exhaling sharply afterwards. "How?" He asked simply, his eyes darting between Mary and Mycroft, both of whom looked at each other, not sure what to say. "How is he alive? And don't say 'well Sherlock managed to fake his own death' because that was different. Moriarty blew his own head off. As far as I'm aware, there's no coming back from that." John finished, using his arms to accent the 'no'. Mary merely shrugged and looked at Mycroft, quite interested herself as to how Moriarty had managed it. The plane had touched the ground and was now rolling to a stop behind Mycroft, who was looking at them with a look of weariness before sighing and leaning on his umbrella with his right hand.

"I haven't the foggiest. Although it could be quite possible that someone is merely using his name and picture to masquerade as him as a means of getting attention."

"You are dim sometimes Mycroft and you call yourself the clever one." A voice from the top of the stairs leading up to the door of the plane said and the three of them looked up to see Sherlock quickly making his way towards them. As he came to a halt in front of them, Mary could see his eyes were sparkling, full of excitement at what was happening and also relief probably that he wasn't to be sent away after all.

"Of course it's him. This has 'Moriarty' written all over it; the drama, the surprise, the spectacle. Completely over the top." Sherlock added, to which John snorted probably thinking what Mary was thinking: 'you can talk.' Mycroft rolled his eyes at his younger brother.

"All I said was that it was a possibility which is quite a logical assumption to make considering the facts." He said and Sherlock shook his head slightly, as if his brother's mere presence was irritating.

"Logical is not the word I would use Mycroft. Stupid? Yes, but not logical." Sherlock replied before flicking up the collar of his coat. "Shall we?" He added, his hand stretching towards the car before he walked towards it, the other three staring after him. After a moment, Mycroft sighed and walked back to his own car just as Sherlock's head popped out of the car door to look at Mary and John who were still standing on the runway.

"Well? Are you coming?" Sherlock asked and his head disappeared again. John looked up towards the sky in a gesture of frustration before shaking his head and walking towards the car, Mary following behind him.

"Where exactly are we going?" John asked as they sat in the car next to Sherlock.

"Wherever my dear brother wants us to go. I'm still on his watch for the moment." He replied and Mary suddenly had a thought that made her pull her phone out.

"What are you doing?" John asked as Mary typed her message.

"Seeing if anyone else knows what's going on." She responded, sending a text to Molly first. "We panicked Molly a little last night, I just want to see if she's aware of the Moriarty situation."

"What did you tell her?" Sherlock asked suddenly. Mary hadn't even been aware that he was listening to her, he had had a 'don't disturb me' look on his face.

"The truth Sherlock, we weren't going to lie to her. She deserves to know." John answered before Mary had the chance and Sherlock scrunched his face up in frustration, tapping the tips of his fingers on his temples.

"Why? Why couldn't you have just told her what I told you to tell her?" He hissed and John sat back in his chair.

"Because what you wanted us to tell her was a downright lie and after everything she has done for you, she deserves more than that." John argued, and Sherlock moaned in annoyance before sitting forward so he could see Mary.

"Does she know?" He asked firmly and Mary blinked, unsure what he meant as John had just explained what they had told Molly.

"Know what?" She asked and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Does she know about Moriarty?" He pressed, prompting Mary to look down at her phone.

"She's not replied yet so I don't know." She answered.

"Oh, for God's sake." John muttered, pulling his own phone out and typing.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked.

"Telling her." He replied and Sherlock reached over to grab the phone, batting at his arm but John pulled it away too quickly. "Sent." John said, smiling in Sherlock's irritated face.

"Why don't you want her to know anyway? She's probably already seen it." Mary commented as Sherlock took out his own phone, pressing it urgently.

"She'll panic and a panicked Molly is useless. I don't need a useless Molly right now, I need her to be use_ful_." Sherlock replied.

"She's probably found out by watching the TV at work or at home. It's everywhere apparently, according to Mycroft." Mary said and Sherlock's gazed snapped to her.

"What?"

"Mycroft told us just after he rang you that Moriarty's all over every television in the country." John replied and Sherlock looked frustrated before messing with his phone again.

"What are you doing?" John asked, exasperated.

"Asking her where she is." Sherlock replied, his fingers quick on the keys of his phone. They all waited for a few minutes silently, an unexplainable tension in the air. Until Sherlock let out a loud, annoyed sigh.

"Why isn't she responding? I don't have time to be worrying about this." He moaned and Mary raised her eyebrows at John before answering.

"She's probably just asleep. She probably stayed up late last night worrying about you." Mary said and Sherlock stabbed at his phone angrily, still not getting through to her.

"Which is exactly why I asked you to lie. She probably didn't sleep last night due to worry and so overslept this morning but she wouldn't have been too late waking up as her body-clock will have adjusted to her work pattern. It's 9:15, her shift started fifteen minutes ago so she'll be rushing, making sure that she's not too late, she hates the unwanted attention that walking in after everyone else gives her. Judging then by how fast she can walk when she is in a hurry, a few minutes ago, she was probably on the underground which would mean she was unreachable but the journey isn't too long so now she'll probably be back on the street and quite capable of receiving texts. She always has her phone in her pocket and it is never on silent. she should be answering." He replied quickly, tapping out another text.

"Hang on, one minute you didn't want her to know and the next, you're desperate to get hold of her..." John said, confused and silence followed as Sherlock didn't reply, his eyes staring at the phone.

"Come on, reply! I can't focus." Sherlock muttered, his fingers working over his phone's keyboard once more until a few seconds later, the three of them relaxed as they heard his phone beep.

"Good. She's at St Bart's. She'll be safe there. I can think now." Sherlock said as his eyes flicked over the text she had sent before he sank back in his seat and closed his eyes, his hands flat together and resting on his nose.

John looked at Mary who was beginning to feel more and more uneasy. Why was Sherlock so worried about Molly? Was she in danger? And if she was...

"Why aren't we going to see her if you're so worried Sherlock?" John asked, verbalising Mary's concerns. Sherlock inhaled slowly and didn't move or even open his eyes when he spoke.

"As long as she's in St Bart's then she's safe. He won't try and reach her there. Too many people."

"Wait. Who won't reach her? Is Moriarty after Molly?" John replied, his voice alarmed and Sherlock's forehead creased slightly in annoyance.

"That is what I can assume but it doesn't matter at this moment. What matters now is that you are all quiet. I need to think. I need to get inside his head, what his plan is, why he chose to come back now, what he's after and what I'm about to be faced with. As long as Molly is in St Bart's, she's safe." Sherlock responded but when Mary saw the look on John's face, she knew that he was as unconvinced as she was.

Sherlock's phone buzzed again but he didn't move, he remained perfectly still in his thinking pose causing John to roll his eyes. They sat there for a few minutes in silence as John became more irritated with Sherlock's ignorance.

"Are you not going to get that message?" John asked quietly, sighing when Sherlock didn't respond before leaning over to glance at Sherlock's phone. His expression suddenly changed to worry as he looked at it, his hand reaching out to take it off Sherlock's lap.

"What is it?" Mary asked but John didn't answer her.

"You say Molly is safe as long as she's at St Bart's?" He asked Sherlock who hummed a reply to let him know he was right. "Well she's not at St Bart's. She's in a cab on her way to Baker Street." He finished, holding the phone up and Sherlock suddenly moved, his eyes darting to the phone.

"No. No no no no. Why would she do that?" He shouted, grabbing his phone out of John's hand and tapping it violently before putting it to his ear.

"What? What's wrong?" Mary asked.

"As long as she was in a busy, public place, she was fine, completely safe but something made her leave and now she's on her own. She's secluded and she's not picking up her damn phone!" He explained, his voice rising and Mary felt a cold fear fill her as she thought of Molly on her own, a perfectly reachable target for Moriarty. She moved her hand to grab John's, clutching it tightly and he placed his other on top of it, stroking it with his thumb. She could tell that he wanted to say it would be okay but no-one could tell right now. No-one knew where Molly was or what she was doing or even if she was in any danger at all. No-one knew. Not even Sherlock.

"What do we do now?" Mary asked and Sherlock sighed, closing his eyes and sitting back into his chair again.

"We wait. He'll contact us soon." He replied and John frowned, turning around to face his friend.

"We have to go and find Molly." John protested and Sherlock shook his head and moved his hands back to rest on his nose.

"No point. She could be anywhere by now. Don't worry, he'll contact us. Panicking and rushing around aimlessly isn't going to help her. Now let me think." He said, his tone final and Mary and John fell into silence, waiting and worrying until they arrived wherever Mycroft was taking them.

* * *

**So, Molly is with Moriarty and now they know too. What does the evil Irish genius have in store next? :P Please review as it really really does make me happy (ask my flatmate...) and it makes me want to keep writing! :)**

**Next chapter: The game is back on.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, I have been blown away by everyone's support for this story! I'm so glad you all like it and I really hope you continue to do so! Thanks! This chapter is a little smaller than the first two as it was originally part of one HUGE chapter so I've split it up into two... Don't hate me! :P **

* * *

"You do understand that this is not a pardon Mr Holmes." Mary watched from the edge of the large and official looking room with John beside her fidgeting as Sherlock stood in front of Lady Smallwood; his hands behind his back and his fingers tapping. "What you did was a very serious matter and you will not go unpunished for it. When this situation has been resolved, you will be back on that plane instantly. Is that understood?" Lady Smallwood finished, waiting pointedly for Sherlock to respond who instead was gazing around the room, his eyes searching the walls and avoiding her stare. "Mr Holmes?"

"Hmm?" He responded finally, looking at her with his eyebrows raised. "Sorry, were you talking? Only I don't listen to people when they talk complete nonsense." He said, his tone short and Mary caught John's lips twist into a small smirk at the corner of her eye.

"Excuse me?" Lady Smallwood replied, a little taken aback.

"You saying that you'll send me away is complete nonsense. Of course I won't be on that plane again for the exact same reason that I am standing here now. You need me. You will always need me whether it be to eliminate men like Magnusson, which I have still not been thanked for, you're welcome by the way." He muttered the last part and flicked his eyes to his brother who merely looked mildly irritated before he continued. "Or whether it be to help you find and stop Moriarty. There will always be something that you need help with and it will always be me that you come to."

"Don't over-estimate yourself and our need for you Mr Holmes. We have merely requested your help this time because you have dealt with Jim Moriarty before." Lady Smallwood replied and Sherlock opened his mouth to retort but Mary looked to her side when she heard John speak first.

"So what, you're going to ask for his help, let him do all the hard work for you and then send him away again. Just like that? Is that how you thank people that help you?" He asked, his tone firm and accusatory and Mary could sense that he was beginning to get wound up.

"In-case you have forgotten Dr Watson, Mr Holmes killed a man."

"Yes, a man that wouldn't have stopped twice at the thought of hurting you or anyone you cared about. And now he's about to try and stop one of the most dangerous men I have ever known and you're making threats to him? I think, some sorting out of priorities is in order here." John argued, his jaw clenching when he finished and his eyes flashing over to Mycroft as he began to reply.

"Dr Watson, my brother is aware of the situation -."

"Oh piss off Mycroft, I know what would have happened to Sherlock after the six months. I'm not as stupid as you two Holmes' brothers might like to think." He interrupted and Mycroft frowned at the outburst, not used to being spoken to in such a way. Mary just caught a glimpse of a smile on Sherlock's face before she felt her phone vibrate in her coat pocket.

"So you'll just send him to die after everything that he has done and will do for you? That's it? Your own brother?" John carried on as Mary frowned in confusion after reading the text she had received.

_**'Do shut them up. They're giving me a headache.' **_

Mary looked at the name of the sender and then to John, her gaze darting between the two of them a few times, positive that what she was reading couldn't be right but it was there as clear as day. The message had been from John.

"John." Mary said, her voice being drowned out by the arguing of the other four people in the room. Her phone went again, the message still from John even though he hadn't done anything but shout at Mycroft.

_**'You might want to be a bit louder than that, they'll want to pay attention to what's coming up next.'**_

"John." She tried again but no-one responded. "Would you all just shut up for a minute?!" She yelled suddenly and all four pairs of eyes looked at her, shocked. "John, where's your phone?" She asked and he frowned in confusion at her.

"Erm. In my pocket. Why?" He asked. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, fine I just need to see your phone." She replied, holding her hand out so that John could give it to her. She flicked over to the texts to herself and saw the message that she had just received, sent only two minutes ago when John had been nowhere near his phone.

"How did -?" Mary began to wonder but Sherlock had already strode over to them and took the phone from her hand wordlessly, examining it closely.

"When did you get these texts?" He asked, his eyes still on the phone.

"Just now."

"But I haven't sent any texts. I haven't been near my phone." John said after he glanced at the messages himself before they all looked at each other when John's phone, which was now in Sherlock's hand, buzzed.

"Another text. This time from you Mary." Sherlock muttered, his eyes flicking over to Mary for a second.

"But... My phone is in my hand and I didn't use it." She replied, intrigue overpowering her confusion. "What does it say?"

"It says: _**'clever isn't it?**_'" Sherlock answered just as Mary's phone vibrated in her hand, quickly, she opened the new message.

_**'It's rather fun too, imagining all your baffled faces.'**_ Mary read the text aloud. "That one was from Sherlock." She added and Sherlock buried his hand in his pocket and whipped out his own phone, not checking it like Mary assumed he would but staring at it as if waiting for something happen. Sure enough, a few seconds later, it buzzed. Everyone watched as he clicked it and his eyes ran over the words of the text he had just received. Mary could see his face harden instantly and she could have sworn that his already pale skin turned an even lighter shade.

"What does it say?" Asked John, who must have picked up on his change of expression too. Sherlock cleared his throat before answering.

"_**'Are you starting to see how I got little Molly all alone?'**_" He replied and Mary felt dread fill her when she thought of what Moriarty had done with her.

"He used your phone number to text her and get her away from St Bart's." John said, shifting his weight from one leg to another as if desperately wanting to do something other than just stand there. "That explains her sudden decision to go to Baker Street."

"He must have text her from my number straight after she replied to me and got her to leave." Sherlock said, spinning on the spot to face the other way as if inspiration would catch him but before it could, a ringing sound came from Mary's hand. They all looked at her as she looked down at the phone.

"It's Molly." She said and Sherlock moved closer to her suddenly.

"Answer it. Put it on speaker phone." He ordered and slowly Mary moved her finger to press the green button.

* * *

**Someone is ringing... who is it? I'll update pretty soon after this one to make up for splitting the chapter into two. Hope you like and please review as always! They make me happy happy! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! Thank you again for the reviews! Plus, I'm only 2 people away from 100 follows! woooo! That's really awesome so thank you! :) I hope you like this chapter as much as I liked writing it. :)**

* * *

"Woops. Wrong phone." Moriarty's voice rang around the room and managed to make everyone remain completely still. "I meant to ring the one on the desk for dramatic effect but it's a new toy and I'm getting used to it. Fun though."

"Well. He's definitely not dead then." John muttered quietly, looking at Mycroft who closed his eyes and let out an inaudible sigh.

"Do you like it? I can text or ring anyone from any phone I choose, all on this one gadget thing that I've got. Quite handy really." Moriarty continued. "But I get the feeling you don't really care about that do you?"

"Where is Molly?" Sherlock asked firmly and when Moriarty replied, Mary saw John tense his fist into a ball.

"Oh, you have to go straight to the boring stuff!" Moriarty complained. "Two years and you haven't changed Sherlock. I thought at least killing someone might help with that. Good shot by the way, didn't think you had it in you. I'm impressed."

"Thank you." Sherlock replied coldly.

"You're welcome. Now, try again. And don't be predictable this time." Moriarty's tone was almost as if he were speaking to a child and Mary could see Sherlock's eyes narrow slightly.

"You chose Molly for a reason. You know how I managed to survive jumping off the roof. You know what mistake you made and now you want to amend it. Am I right?" Sherlock asked and they all waited silently for Moriarty to reply. "You made a mistake." Sherlock repeated and they waited again for a few short moments until suddenly the line went dead. Mary looked down at her phone and saw that the call had ended but what she saw next surprised her more than anything else that day had.

"Alright, you got me!" The door to the room swung open suddenly and they all span around to see Moriarty walking towards them, his hands raised in the air. Lady Smallwood stood up, her hands still resting on the desk as Mycroft straightened and raised his chin slightly. Mary heard John's breathing become quicker and she felt him move nearer to her, his body shielding hers slightly from the man who had just walked into the room. If the situation wasn't so serious, she would have smiled at his attempts of being protective.

"I do love to make an entrance. The look on all your faces is priceless. You just can't get that over the phone." Moriarty said, smiling his dark eyes flicking around the room to each of their faces.

"You have just walked into a building full of people that are looking for you Mr Moriarty. We can have you arrested instantly." Lady Smallwood said sternly and both Moriarty and Sherlock rolled their eyes at her comment.

"She _does_ talk nonsense doesn't she?" Moriarty replied before walking over slowly to Sherlock and leaning towards his ear. "You tell her why that's not going to happen Sherlock." He whispered. Sherlock's expression remained stony as he spoke.

"Molly. He has Molly and whilst he has her, he has leverage." He replied and Moriarty nodded beside him.

"But if we let him go, who knows how many people he'll hurt." She argued and Moriarty raised his hands and waved them in the air, his face now wearing a mock scared expression

"Oh no! You must stop the dangerous man! Ahh!" He sang in a high-pitched panicked voice before dropping his arms and raising his head in the air, holding his hand over his eyes in exasperation as he walked into the middle of the room.

"No no no. You don't get it do you? You're talking like you have control but you don't have control of this situation. What you think is meaningless. Your 'power' here is meaningless." Moriarty moaned before moving over to the other side of the desk that Lady Smallwood was leaning on, bending himself towards her. "I have just walked through your building casually in the light of day and no-one noticed me. I have hijacked all of your phones and bypassed every part of your security. I have just come back from the dead and used every single TV in the country to tell everyone. You are not in control here, I am so just SHUT UP!" He shouted suddenly, making everyone jump. "And let the big boys do the talking." He added patronisingly before pausing for a moment and sighing, standing away from the table to face Sherlock again.

"Where is Molly?" Sherlock repeated again calmly and Moriarty walked back over to him.

"She's safe. For now." He replied, walking around him. "I'm starting our game again Sherlock. The fall was a stalemate which was good. We needed a break from each other, it was getting a little tiresome." He walked away from him, now facing John and Mary. "But now it's time to play again. I've made my move so now you'll have to decide yours."

"What does Molly have to do with your game with Sherlock though? She's just a pathologist isn't she?" Mary asked, and Moriarty looked at her with interest.

"Oh yes, Mary Watson. I know all about you." He said, walking towards her slowly, tipping his head from side to side as if studying her. "I probably know more about you than little John here. How does that feel? To know I know your wife better than you do." He taunted and Mary braced herself what what was about to happen.

"You bastard." John hissed and pulled his arm back, his fist tensing, ready to punch Moriarty straight in the face but Mary had already grabbed his arm with both her hands and held it back, shouting his name to stop him just as Sherlock did the same. Moriarty took a step back, his face smiling as a laugh escaped his lips.

"You're always fun John. Taunting you is just so easy." He mocked before taking a step closer to him, leaning his face towards John's. "But I have a feeling that it's going to be more fun breaking you." He added, his voice cold and his stare just as chilling.

"Your mistake Moriarty. You're avoiding it." Sherlock said loudly, breaking Moriarty away from Mary and John.

"Alright, alright! My word, you won't let that go will you?" Moriarty replied before huffing and putting his hands in his pockets, strolling back to the middle of the room again. "My mistake was to ignore the measly little pawn in your game. I let it slip passed me while I focused on your other pieces." He wafted his hand over to where John and Mary were standing. "A silly mistake and one I won't make again." He said, his face and tone serious and Sherlock let a little smile curl one side of his mouth.

"Your mistake was to overlook her but I had always planned on getting her to the edge of the board, on turning her into a main player of the game. I knew you would only focus on three people and that I could use the other two to my advantage. Mycroft and Molly. But Mycroft you had already considered." Sherlock responded, watching Moriarty as he nodded his head and stepped slowly towards him.

"I had. You two aren't exactly the closest and he's pretty well guarded. Too much effort for very little effect." Moriarty said, shrugging afterwards and Mary looked over at Mycroft to see what his reaction was. As always, he was wearing his poker face. "But Molly. Molly was different. She actually matters to you." Moriarty continued, his voice lined with surprise. "I didn't count on that and I underestimated her but like I said, not again." Moriarty added, singing the last two words.

"You said to me that my biggest weakness is needing to see intelligence in everything well yours is always overlooking it." Sherlock said, finally moving and taking a step closer to him. "Molly helped me beat you and all because you missed her." He hissed and Moriarty smiled in his face.

"But you didn't beat me did you Sherlock? Because in case you haven't noticed, I'm still alive. Ta-dah!" He used his hands to outline his body dramatically and opened his mouth wide in a smile. "Oh and on that topic, is no-one going to ask me how I did it? I honestly thought that would be the first thing I got asked but with Molly it was 'where are you taking me?'" Moriarty raised his voice to a high-pitched squeak when mimicking Molly before pulling a face. "Ugh. Boring. That's when I decided to shut her up."

"No-one wants to know how you did it." Moriarty turned over to face John in surprise as he spoke up, the last comment about Molly obviously riling him. "In fact, no-one gives a toss that you're back. All everyone actually wants is for you to disappear again." He finished and Moriarty pulled a hurt expression.

"Oh John. That got me right here." He placed a hand over his heart and shook his head sadly. John stared at him, unamused. "Hurtful thing to say. The thing is, you would be right except that there is one person that missed me. Missed the challenge and the chase." He slowly turned to face Sherlock, his eyes cold and piercing. "Isn't that right Sherlock?" Sherlock met his stare before inhaling deeply.

"What next?" He asked, his voice steady. Moriarty clapped his hands together and smiled widely, striding back over to Sherlock.

"Ooo goody! You'll play will you? Really?" He asked, excitedly. "Good. The next move is yours. I have your queen and soon I'll take down your other pieces. One. By. One." He separated the last words, his head moving from left to right to emphasise each one. "I'm closing in on you Sherlock." He moved past him and stopped at his side before leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Check." The five of them all watched as he strolled to the door.

"Come and get her. She's waiting." Moriarty called before leaving the room, the door closing behind him. Immediately, Lady Smallwood moved her hand to the phone on her desk but before she could even touch it, Sherlock glared at her.

"Don't." He said firmly and she looked at him coldly yet still moved her hand away.

"He is a wanted man and he is in this very building. How can you ask me to let him just walk out of here?" She argued.

"I'm not asking, I am ordering you. If you call your men and have him arrested then there is no hope for Molly at all. As long as he is in the game, she is too. Take him out of it and then she is in trouble." He replied, beginning to pace around the room. "He won't dispose of her until he needs to so we have to find her before that point."

"'Dispose of her'? Sherlock, this is Molly we're talking about not just some random victim! Why can't you just act a little bit human for once?" John asked and Sherlock turned to him, a frustrated expression on his face.

"Because right now I need to think of her as a victim. If I let myself remember that she is alone somewhere, trapped and probably terrified and all because I asked for her help and got her involved in a game she should never have been a part of then I would become careless. I'd start making rash, illogical decisions in a desperate attempt to find her and that won't help Molly. So please just let me do it my way." He replied, his words spilling out quickly and John looked a little taken aback by them. Sherlock had basically just admitted that he cared for Molly and probably more than he would like to.

"Now. Can I go or do I need a police escort or something?" Sherlock asked Lady Smallwood who raised her eyebrows.

"Well, yes I think that would - ." She began but Sherlock waved his hand at her before spinning on his heel and walking away.

"No matter, I already have the right man for the job." He interrupted and walked out of the room, Mary and John following him closely. "John would you call -." He started asking but John had already pulled out his phone.

"You want me to call Greg?" He asked.

"Greg? No. I want you to call Lestrade."

* * *

**Sooooo? I love Moriarty and I hope I did him (and Andrew Scott's brilliance) justice. :P He's just such an fun character to write :) Please let me know what you think! Revieeeeeeeew pleeeeeeeeease! :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**I know I sound like a broken record but thank you all SO MUCH for all of your lovely reviews and follows (over 100 now! booyah!). If i haven't replied back to all of them, I am so sorry! I really do appreciate every single one of them and they really make me want to write this and write it well. :) I hope I can do that :P Here's the next part!**

* * *

Somewhere echoing in Molly's head, a clock was ticking, it's constant rhythm slowly waking her up from the darkness that she had been under. She couldn't remember how she had got to where she was or even where she was at all. All she remembered last was being in a cab, waiting nervously as it stopped suddenly and jumping as the door beside her opened, her eyes widening as a cloth came towards her mouth, smothering her and instantly making her feel drowsy. She barely had time to fight back before her eyes fluttered shut and she remembered nothing more.

Now she was in a dark room, lying on what felt like a sofa but she couldn't make anything out yet. The curtains at the window had been drawn and it was taking her a lot longer than usual to adjust to the lack of light. Slowly, she sat up, moving her hand to her head as it stabbed painfully, only then, just as a voice echoed around the room did she remember who had taken her here in the first place.

"Good golly Miss Molly, you're a heavy sleeper." Molly frowned and turned around slowly, still feeling a little dazed. She could just make out the outline of the man coming towards her and she felt all the fear from when she had been in the taxi with him return instantly. "I've always wanted to say that ever since I met you. 'Good golly Miss Molly'. How often do you get that?" He asked, his voice light-hearted and as he neared her, the little bit of light swimming through the curtains highlighted his face, his dark eyes shining.

"Quite often." Molly replied, her voice quiet but surprisingly steady. "Where are we?" She asked, her eyes starting to make out outlines of a television in the corner of the room they were in and a fireplace that sat next to them. For some reason, the place felt familiar to her. Moriarty smiled and the way the darkness shadowed his face made her feel uneasy.

"You don't recognise it? I thought you would." He replied, moving in front of her, still standing as she sat on the sofa. "I did a lot of research to find this place. I thought you might like it." He continued, raising his eyebrows when Molly didn't respond, her eyes flicking around the room, trying to place where she was but the drugs that he had used to sedate her had made her head cloudy.

"Nothing? Well it must look different in the dark I suppose." He bent down so that he was face to face with her, his eyes staring intently at her. "It's your old house Molly. The Hooper family home." He announced and Molly felt her stomach do a somersault and she gripped the edge of the cushion tightly. Now she remembered where she was clearly. "Of course it looks a bit different with someone else's stuff in it but it's still the same place." He added, his eyes not leaving her face as he watched her expression turn from confusion to terror.

"Why -?" Molly tried, her voice cracking. She shut her eyes and cleared her throat. "Why have you brought me here?"

"Well you didn't think I was going to be predictable and take you to an abandoned warehouse or something did you?" He asked, raising his eyebrow and standing up again. "No, that would be rubbish. Besides, Sherlock knows practically every criminal hideout spot in London but this place..." He opened his arms wide to gesture around the room. "This place he has no idea about because he knows nothing about you Molly. Not really." He goaded but Molly wasn't really paying attention. Instead she had her head pointed towards her knees, her gaze fixed on the floor as she tried to control her breathing. She didn't want to be in that house. She couldn't face it.

"I need to get out of here." She muttered quietly and Moriarty raised an eyebrow, bending his ear towards her.

"What was that? Little Molly needs to speak a little louder if she wants to be heard." He mocked in a high-pitched voice and Molly suddenly felt a mixture of hatred and panic flood her and she snapped her eyes up to his.

"Let me out of this house. You can take me anywhere else, just not here." She said, her voice stronger than usual and Moriarty looked surprised but also amused at her sudden courage.

"But where's the fun in that?" He asked, his tone of voice changing to a sinister one and his smile slowly fading away. "You ruined my game Molly. You got involved in something that you really shouldn't have been involved in. I was WINNING!" He shouted, moving towards her face and she snapped away from him so that her back was pressed against the sofa, all courage from before dissolving into fear. "And you came along and ruined it. You ruined it." He complained, his expression and voice changing instantly again as it the outburst had never occurred. Instead, he now looked utterly disappointed, shaking his head at her. "So this is what you get for messing in things that don't concern you and your pleas to leave have just made it all the more enjoyable for me." He finished before standing away from her and walking to the end of the room. Molly quickly span around to watch him and she had no idea what made her speak but when she did, she wished she hadn't.

"He'll find me." She shouted and waited nervously as Moriarty turned slowly on the spot back to face her., his head tipped at an angle "Sherlock will find me." His outline was only visible in the darkness but Molly could almost feel the intensity of his stare.

"What makes you think that?" He asked, his voice quiet and dangerous and Molly stood up from the sofa, backing away from him towards the window as he started to walk towards her again. "What makes you think that he cares enough to find you? He barely knows anything about you Molly. I know more about you than he does that's how I found this place. He won't have a clue where you are because he doesn't care about your life or your past or anything to do with you." He was still moving towards her, his voice low in tone as well as volume and Molly cursed in her head as her back hit the wall and she could go no further. "He used you Molly. That's all he ever does. He lies and lies so that you'll do his bidding. I bet he's not even looking for you because you're just a tool to him." He was now so close to her that she could feel his breath on her, cringing as it brought back memories from when she had thought he was merely 'Jim from IT'. She tried not to let his words get into her head and also began to quickly feel claustrophobic with the little room between them. The lack of light in the room was making the feeling worse so without thinking, she lifted her hand to grab the curtains, going to open them but Moriarty clasped his hand around her arm tightly, painfully stopping her before she could reach it. He stared at her for a few moments, his hold tightening and causing Molly to press her lips together in pain.

"I have to go out now." He said darkly just before Molly was about to consider fighting back. "Now be a good girl and stay here until I get back." Molly gasped as he let go of his grip on her. "Oh and I wouldn't try and leave, I have someone here that will make you regret it if you do." He added, walking away from her. "Ciao." He called back over his shoulder and she stayed perfectly still as she watched him go until she heard the door close and the key turn in the lock. Slowly, her legs gave way and she let herself slide down the wall, her heart beating at hundred miles and hour and her breathing hard to control. She put her head in her hands and closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling carefully to try and calm herself. She needed to be calm, if she panicked, she'd be useless. She smiled as she imagined that that is probably what Sherlock would want her to think.

After a few moments, she managed to relax and she lifted her head up, ready to try and think of a plan to get out but sure enough, as Moriarty had said, there was someone in the room with her and before she could even think of trying to escape, she had become more preoccupied with the barrel of the gun that she was now facing, a hand tipped with red finger nails clasped around it expertly pointing it straight at Molly's chest.

* * *

**It occurred to me that we knew practically nothing about Molly's past except that her Dad died. This means I can make stuff up and run with it. :P Let me know what you think! :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey! So, I am so happy that this story is going down so well. Like really really happy! Thank you all again for your lovely reviews :D This chapter was one of my favourites to write so I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Scotland Yard was busy. Incredibly busy. Phones were ringing all over the room that John was standing in and there seemed to be far too many people in it too. There were employees rushing around him, not even saying 'excuse me' to try and get past. At one point, a man who looked no older than his early-twenties barged into Mary, knocking her into John who caught her quickly before moving over to the man as he tried to walk away.

"Hey!" He shouted, annoyed and he could feel Mary watching him with a small smile on her face. The man turned around, wearing a mixed look of exasperation and frustration on his face.

"I didn't see you, sorry." He mumbled but John wasn't satisfied.

"You just ran full pelt into my pregnant wife and nearly knocked her flying." He pressed, frowning at him and watched as the man looked at Mary, his eyes widening. He began to stammer as John raised his eyebrows at him and Sherlock suddenly appeared next to John.

"Just say you're sorry with a bit more feeling this time and go. He's having a bad day." He said, inclining his head to John at the last part.

"I'm no-" John began to retort but Sherlock shook his head and interrupted him.

"No time." Sherlock looked at the man again expectantly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you. I should have been more careful." He said to Mary with as much sincerity as he could manage. Mary nodded.

"Don't worry, no harm done. And don't mind him, he _is_ having a bad day." She replied and John frowned at her.

"Oi." He moaned but Mary shook her head with a small smile on her face before turning and following Sherlock across the room and towards a glass door that lead to Lestrade's office. John watched them for a moment in disbelief before huffing and following behind, wondering if he was ever going to get used to Mary and Sherlock ganging up against him. The thought made him smile in spite of himself as he walked through the door. At least they got on.

"What the hell is going on?" Lestrade was waiting for them as they entered and stood as he spoke.

"Exactly what John has told you. I need a police escort and I've chosen you for the job. Congratulations." Sherlock replied ending the sentence with a sarcastic smile.

"I don't have time to babysit you Sherlock. In case you haven't noticed, Moriarty, who everyone thought was dead, is alive and we have a line of calls and people to sift through, and every single one of them have claimed to have seen him." He argued, his voice and expression clearly showing how stressed he was.

"Brilliant. I can help you." Sherlock said and Lestrade stared at him for a second, unbelieving.

"Seriously? You'd help me interview all these people?" He asked sceptically and Sherlock put on a hurt expression.

"Of course." He said before walking away from Lestrade and John waited for what else he was about to say. "But I won't be interviewing them. Plus, I'll be expecting some help from you in return." Sherlock added and John smiled as he turned to follow him back at the room, coming to a dead stop as he realised that most of the people he thought were rushing around working were actually standing around waiting to be seen. Word of Moriarty's return had obviously spread pretty fast.

John and Mary stood next to Greg and Sherlock, the latter of which had his hands in his coat pockets, his eyes carefully surveying the group of people.

"One minute." Sherlock said suddenly. Greg raised his eyebrow.

"What?"

"One minute and I'll have gotten rid of the unimportant people." He replied before glancing over at Sally Donovan who was looking over the shoulder of a woman to stare at a computer. "And yes that will include you Donovan." Sherlock added, earning a frown from her.

"Shut up." She retorted before looking back down at the screen.

"Such an intelligent reply." Sherlock muttered sarcastically.

"You're really going to help me whittle down this lot in one minute? There's got to be at least fifty people here." Lestrade said and Sherlock sighed.

"Have you learnt nothing about me over the years Lestrade?" He asked and Greg didn't answer instead, he waited with John and Mary as they all watched Sherlock make his way to the queue of people.

"Okay, to all the people who claim to have seen Moriarty," He shouted loudly and the whole room turned to look at him. "Just to make things much simpler, would you please leave if you are lying." Lestrade scoffed next to John, probably hardly believing what Sherlock was saying. John however knew better than to judge him yet. "If no-one recognises me, my name is Sherlock Holmes and if that isn't enough, I shall tell you this: I know when people are lying even if they believe in their silly little brains they are very good at it. For example - ." He turned to the first woman in the queue who looked at him as if he had two heads. "You are obviously are liar and a chronic one at that." John watched the woman who looked as if Sherlock had just slapped her before John turned to look at Sherlock who glanced up and down at the woman quickly, telling John that a show-off performance was about to come. "There are a few beads of perspiration on your forehead and you've taken your coat off even though you are only wearing a very thin shirt underneath. The room isn't too hot at all, in fact it's borderline chilly, the air-conditioning is always ridiculously high in here so this is probably due to the fact that your blood-pressure is rising. I've also noticed just by looking at your eyes that your pupils are dilated and that you have blinked far too much in the last few minutes all of which are signs that you are very excited about something that is about to happen. I doubt upon knowing Moriarty that if you would have indeed met him that excitement is something you would feel; terror is more likely however there is nothing on your face anywhere to suggest that you feel that at all so, it's not to do with him then.

So then, why are you excited? Well, there is a distinct red mark on your nose where you have been rubbing away your make-up absent-mindedly with your finger, a common tell-tale sign for a liar, known as the Pinocchio effect so the fact that you are excited that you are about to tell a lie points to an addiction to it. That or you're just an attention seeker." He stopped abruptly smiling smugly down at the woman as the whole room remained silent. "You may leave the room." He finished and the woman stared at him for a moment, her mouth slightly open before she adjusted the bag on her shoulder and hurried away, looking flustered. Sherlock watched her leave before turning to the group of people again.

"Now. Would you all like to reconsider again if you are lying and if you are, please follow that woman. Note also that lying would be wasting police time which is seen as a criminal offence and the Detective Inspector will arrest you for it." Sherlock continued, nodding over briefly to Lestrade who quickly cleared his throat and stood up straight.

"Yes. Yes I will do that." He said feebly and John caught Sherlock rolling his eyes before he returned them back to look at the group.

"Now." He ordered and instantly, over half of the people in the line began to move and crowd themselves towards the door, filtering through it as quickly as they could, some looking back with astonished expressions on their faces to which Sherlock pretended to ignore but John knew he was secretly enjoying.

After most of the people had left, Sherlock began to make his way down the queue, occasionally shaking his head at people or muttering 'no' as he walked past them and John almost felt sorry for them as he saw them leave, looking rather confused at what had just happened. When Sherlock had reached the end of the queue, they were left with three people, one woman and two men, all of whom now looked a little intimidated as they stood being stared at by most of the people in the room. After a moment, Sherlock opened his mouth as if to say something before stopping and narrowing his eyes at the woman.

"No. I change my mind about you. You can go." He said, before walking back to Lestrade and stopping next to him briefly.

"Shall we?" He asked, walking back into Lestrade's office, the owner of which shook his head before calling the two people left to follow them into it.

John helped shuffle some chairs around so that the interviewees were sat facing Sherlock and Lestrade. Mary and John waited by the door, not wanting to make them feel too crowded. Lestrade waited for a moment as if thinking that Sherlock was about to say something but he merely stared at them, his eyes flicking across each of their faces and taking in their postures, picking up on things that still impressed John even after all this time. Lestrade cleared his throat again when he realised Sherlock was not going to speak.

"So. You're all here presumably because you think that you have seen Jim Moriarty. Is this correct?" He asked and the two men nodded but only the man in the middle spoke, a strong cockney accent in his tones.

"I was trying to get a cab this morning and the driver wouldn't let me in. I only saw his face for a second but I swear it was him, the guy on the telly." He said mysteriously and Sherlock suddenly sat forward towards them.

"Okay, you're done. Out." He said to the man, nodding to the door and Lestrade looked at him in annoyance.

"Hold on a minute, I've not finished talking to him yet." He argued.

"What else do you need to know? He saw him as the driver of a taxi, we could have figured that out in our sleep. Anything else he is about to tell us is just useless information." He responded, his gaze on Lestrade before he turned back to the man who was looking as confused as the people who had left from the queue moments ago. "I would thank you for your time but that seems unfair considering you've wasted mine." He said and the man took that as his queue and got up slowly, looking back at Lestrade and Sherlock a few times before walking past John and Mary to leave the room.

"Are you going to do that with everyone we talk to?" Lestrade asked Sherlock in a hushed voice.

"Time is of the essence Graham." He muttered in reply, speaking again before Lestrade had time to correct him.

"You, you're the taxi driver that he managed to convince to give him your cab." Sherlock said matter-of-factly to the man who was sat on their right. The slightly balding cab driver shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

"Er... yes, yes I am." He stammered awkwardly.

"Why would you just give someone your cab?" Lestrade asked just as John was thinking the same thing.

"Money." Sherlock answered and the driver looked at him sheepishly before nodding. "He offered you a fair amount of money to borrow it I'm assuming?"

"£2000. That's over two months pay. Plus he only said that he would borrow it. He said that he was going to text me where he left it when he was done. Not sure why." He replied, his eyes flicking to Sherlock and then to the floor.

"Did he give you a reason?" John asked from the door, astounded that this man had been so trusting, even for that amount of money. The man shrugged.

"Not really. He just mentioned that he was planning a surprise for his girlfriend and that to do it properly, he would need to pick her up in a taxi. That's it. He seemed perfectly fine to me at the time, quite a nice man before I realised..." The man tailed off and Lestrade was frowning at him as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"So a man you've never met comes up and offers you a lot of money to borrow your cab without any explanation and you just trust him. Why?" Lestrade asked, sitting back and folding his arms.

"Because the man is desperate." Sherlock answered, rolling his eyes when no-one responded. "I thought this one was obvious but apparently not. His choice and state of clothes suggest that he is struggling for money. Coats and shoes are a fairly necessary piece of clothing but his coat has a rip in the arm and has been patched together quite poorly, same with his shoes, there is glue residue leaking out of the sole, showing another rather bad piece of handiwork, all in the name of saving money rather than spending it on new items." Sherlock was talking once again at his usual quick pace when he was making deductions. John and Mary settled back into the wall behind them, used to it by now as the man Sherlock was speaking of stared in amazement. "Then there's the hair, judging by his complexion and marks around his eyes, he's not much older than his mid-thirties but he is quite obviously grey and is also beginning to go bald, stress-induced most likely. This is probably down to his children; a small patch of baby vomit is visible on his collar and also a little bit of baby food has dried between his nails so, one baby, one toddler and judging by the lack of a ring on his finger and the over-all lack of confidence of his demeanour, I'd say his wife left him not long ago. It should now not be too difficult to realise that with two children to feed and clothe and probably also childcare bills to pay for that one taxi driver's wage would not be enough to support them." Sherlock waited and looked at the man who's eyes had become steadily wider throughout the whole of his speech. The man opened his mouth but no sound seemed to come out for a moment until he final managed to force out two words.

"How did -?"

"He does that." Lestrade replied without waiting for him to finish the question. "So you gave him the cab and he's not replied yet?" He prompted and the man shook his head slowly, his eyes still on Sherlock. "So what do we do? Wait?" He directed his question at Sherlock who stood up suddenly and walked past the chairs.

"What, wait around for Moriarty to contact us and do nothing? Of course not." He replied, annoyed before walking to stand next to Mary and John, his hand on the door as he looked back at Lestrade and the cab driver. "We need to go to St Bart's." He added before walking out of the room, the rest of them watching him, a little confused.

"Well. We'd better follow him then." John said after a moment and Lestrade and the driver stood up."

"Should I -?" He began and everyone in the room turned to look at him. "Should I come too?" He asked and Lestrade shrugged.

"You better had. If we leave you here and Sherlock wants you and you're not around, they'll be bloody hell to pay." He replied before grabbing his coat and walking back into the busy office, John, Mary and the cab driver following him.

"Norman! Be on stand-by for my calls. If I ring you, you answer, got it?" Lestrade called as they all walked to the door and the young man who had bumped into Mary before poked his head above his computer and nodded quickly.

"Ruling with a firm hand?" Mary commented and Lestrade sighed.

"I have to when Sherlock's not around, it's the only chance I get to be the boss." He replied causing Mary to smirk as the four of them followed Sherlock out of Scotland Yard.

* * *

**So there were two pretty big Sherlock deductions in there. I hope that wasn't too much... I had fun writing them both and I was going to cut one out but I decided, to heck with it, I like them. :P**

**I am unfortunately now going to be going away for a bit so I won't be able to update for about 5 days so this is why I wanted to leave you a longer update. I shall be writing my a** off though so be you can be sure that I will have lots of stuff ready for you when I get back.**

**Thanks for sticking with it! Review as always pleeeeeease! :D  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm back! Yay! Thank you again for your support! I didn't manage to respond to many reviews so I'm really sorry but I really really do appreciate them. (I think I may say that on every chapter but it's true). Hope you like the next bit!**

* * *

The little light that had managed to sneak it's way into the room through the cracks in the curtains was beginning to fade, night time taking away the day and leaving Molly to wonder how many sunsets she would have to live through stuck in that house.

Moriarty had still not returned and during the hours that he had been gone, Molly had been sat on the floor of the living room, barely moving and trying desperately not to look at anything that surrounded her. Even though this was now someone else's house with someone else's stuff in it, she still couldn't let her gaze linger on anything for too long as it hurt too much.

The only thing that she occasionally looked at, just to make sure that she could still see it was the gun that was still pointing at her, the owner of it sat opposite her on the sofa, looking utterly bored.

When Molly had first seen her, it took her a few moments to believe that this was who Moriarty had sent to keep watch on her. The first thing she noticed was how slim the woman was, it didn't seem like it would take too much to over-power her but, with Molly not being the strongest person in the world and also not being the one with the gun, she thought she had better not risk it.

Then she noticed just how devastatingly beautiful she was. Her hair was dark and delicately clipped on top of her head. Molly could just about make out the red colour that sat on her lips and nails, standing out against the black colour of her dress and coat. As Molly took in more of her appearance, she instantly began to feel inadequate and there was also something about the woman's stare that made her begin to realise why Moriarty might have chosen her. This was a woman Molly wouldn't want to cross.

They had sat in silence mostly since she had arrived, occasionally the woman got up and walked around, looking at the objects around the room wordlessly, but now Molly could see the woman's patience starting to wear thin. She had sat on the sofa again, her foot was tapping out a quick rhythm on the floor, and she was looking at the gun in her hand, twirling it in her fingers, a little bit too expertly for Molly's liking. She dared to look up at the woman's face and caught her eye for the first time. The woman smiled, almost flirtatiously, her eyes glistening in the dim light and she sat forward as she looked at Molly, who couldn't look away again.

"I think some light wouldn't hurt. I'd quite like to see your face properly." The woman said, her voice low and seductive and Molly wondered if she was like this with everyone she met. She stood slowly and walked over to a nearby lamp, flicking it on with her finger and Molly blinked, her eyes adjusting to the sudden wash of colour. When she finally got used to it, she squinted up at the woman and her self-esteem dropped further as she realised just how pretty she was. There was also something familiar about her that she couldn't quite place.

"Hmm." The woman looked at her inquisitively. "So. You're Molly Hooper." The woman said, crossing her arms and studying her carefully. From the tone of her voice, Molly felt as if she was being tested.

"Yes I am." She replied. "Can I ask who you are?" She added timidly, suddenly feeling rather silly that she was sat on the floor.

"Oh, there's plenty of time for that later." The woman replied. "Let's just say that we have a mutual friend." The woman turned and walked away from her, giving time for Molly to quickly stand up and dust down her trousers. Her wondering about the woman and the sudden change in atmosphere made Molly momentarily forget where they were but as she looked up and her eyes took in the room properly for the first time, she began to feel dizzy. She quickly moved her hand backwards to lean on the wall for support. Flashes of memories were being projected onto her vision and she shut her eyes tightly and shook her head, trying to get rid of them. This house was not good for her. She needed to get out.

"Are you alright?" The woman asked and Molly couldn't tell from her tone or expression if she was genuinely interested or just asking because she felt she had to.

"Fine." Molly replied quietly before inhaling deeply and straightening herself again. She would just have to focus on the new things in the room. The things that wouldn't make her remember.

"You don't seem it." The woman replied and Molly laughed once.

"You're very caring for a woman who is keeping me prisoner whilst pointing a gun at me." She said and the woman looked down at the weapon in her hand before shrugging.

"Let's just say that I owe Moriarty a favour and this is him cashing in." She replied, her tone bitter and Molly frowned in confusion.

"You owe him a favour and he's used that by asking you to keep watch on me?" She asked sarcastically and the woman sighed before making her way back across the room over to the sofa.

"I know. I knew that he would come to find me eventually but I had hoped that when he did that it would be for something a little more..." She looked Molly up and down. "Interesting." She finished and Molly pressed her lips together, feeling both annoyed but still intimidated by the stranger standing in front of her. She decided to keep her talking, preferring that to the awkward silence from before.

"So our 'mutual friend' is Sherlock I'm guessing." Molly prompted and the woman let another smile creep onto her face, a glint in her eye that made Molly wonder even more who she could be.

"He's one of a kind, Sherlock Holmes." The woman replied, her voice low. "But you know that otherwise you wouldn't be here." She stepped even closer to Molly who was beginning to feel uncomfortable again at the lack of space between them. At least it wasn't Moriarty this time.

"Who are you to him?" Molly asked, a little more defensively than she had planned. The woman raised an eyebrow playfully. "The same thing I am to most men, and some women too." She answered, dropping her eyes and lifting them again to look at Molly. "Temptation." She whispered before moving away and walking around the room again, her eyes tracing the walls and décor. Molly swallowed, feeling smaller and smaller each second she spent in the same room as the woman who seemed to know Sherlock more than Molly could ever imagine to.

"So what is this place to you? It seems a very strange place for Moriarty to bring you." The woman said, her voice louder. Molly looked at the floor, the memories that she had wanted to suppress pushing back to the forefront of her mind.

"It's my old house. It's where I grew up as a kid." She answered quietly and the woman frowned.

"Oh. Well that doesn't sound horrible enough for him." She replied and Molly shook her head.

"No, this is definitely horrible enough. This is the worst place that he could have brought me." Molly answered and sighed as the woman looked at her inquisitively, pressing her to elaborate. "I had a wonderful upbringing. My parents were lovely and I was an only child but I didn't mind, it meant I had them all to myself." Pictures of her mother and father's face suddenly sprang to her, making a small smile touch at her lips. "I have so many happy memories in this house but that just makes it even more painful to be here." Molly stopped for a moment and pulled at the jumper she was wearing, playing with a stray piece of cotton absent-mindedly as she let herself speak about a time of her life she usually tried to forget.

"My Dad died when I was just finishing college. We knew he was ill but he always tried to put on a brave face to make us feel better. Most of the time, we believed him, probably because we wanted to or because we didn't want him to think that we were sad, so when it actually happened, when he died, it felt really sudden." Molly felt her chest tighten painfully as she relived her memories. She couldn't believe that she was saying all of this to a complete stranger. "It hit my Mum hard. Really hard. We lived here just the two of us for a while but it was never the same. We were never as close without Dad and I wonder sometimes if it's because I reminded her of him. People used to say that I looked just like him. Either way, whatever the reason, something made it become too much for her so when I moved to University, she told me that she was also moving. To France." Molly's voice had become quiet, almost a whisper as she spoke to the woman who was still listening to her silently.

"I talk to her occasionally and go over to visit her every couple of years but we both find it hard now. It hasn't been the same since Dad..." Molly tailed off, knowing that if she continued, she would lose her control. She had already opened up to a woman she had never met before, she didn't want to break down in front of her too. Molly cleared her throat and shook her head before raising it to look at the woman who was now standing next to the wall and leaning on it with her shoulder, her arms folded as she took Molly in with her piercing gaze.

"I'll give Moriarty credit. He has done his research." She replied, no hint of sympathy in her voice and Molly laughed once without humour.

"He said he wanted to punish me for helping Sherlock and he's doing a pretty good job so far. Just being in this room makes me feel...empty." Molly responded before realising that the woman was here on Moriarty's watch too. She had said something about owing him. Maybe they were in the same boat. "Is Moriarty trying to punish you too?" She asked, realising how stupid the question sounded even before the woman laughed in response.

"By sticking me in a house with you? As much as I'm bored out of my mind, it wouldn't be much of a punishment. No, this is all part of something bigger. I know that he has something else planned for me. I just agreed to watch you to keep myself alive a little longer." She replied in a carefree tone but Molly saw a small change in her expression that told her the woman was more scared than she was letting on. Molly was about to try and say something comforting, something that could maybe break down the woman's defences. She didn't seem like an evil person, if Molly could get her on her side then she had a way out but before she could, the door swung open suddenly, banging off the wall as it hit it hard. Moriarty strode into the room and the two women turned to look at him, one terrified and the other looking quite amused.

"Well you know how to make an entrance." The woman said with a smile but Moriarty's face showed no hint of amusement. Instead, his eyes were dangerous as they looked at the woman and Molly felt worried for her as he walked up to her.

"Enjoying your little chat are we? Well that's nice. Why don't I pop the kettle on and break out the digestives?" He said, his voice high and dripping with sarcasm before he instantly closed the gap between himself and the woman, his face now inches from hers. "That's not what you're here for!" He yelled suddenly, his voice bouncing around the room and Molly's hand shot to her chest in surprise. "Now, please, " Moriarty stopped shutting his eyes before opening them again and sighing. "and pay attention to this because if you don't do what I say again, I will cut your eyes out. Please just go and do what I told you to do." Moriarty said, he accented the 't' on 'cut' just enough that it created a small pause, his voice so calm as he threatened her that Molly felt a shiver go down her back. She looked at the woman, expecting her to be terrified but she was smiling.

"Well aren't you a bit sexy when you get all mad." She replied and Molly felt her mouth drop open in surprise. Moriarty raised an eyebrow and put his hands in his pockets.

"I know. That's the look I'm going for." He shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and if Molly hadn't had been so scared, she probably would have laughed. "Now. On your way." He prompted, waving his arms towards the door and she took a step closer to him, letting her eyes stare into his black ones, creating a tension that Molly was sure she could have cut with a knife. Moriarty looked straight back at her, before he let his eyes drop to her feet and slowly run back up towards her face, wearing a smile that made Molly's stomach turn. She watched with baited breath as he lent even closer to the woman, not daring to move as she also seemed to be doing. "Well go on then." Moriarty whispered and the woman walked slowly around him and towards the door.

"I can see why he likes you." Moriarty called, stopped the woman just as she reached the door. "And for that reason, I'm going to enjoy having you in the game." He turned to face her, a deadly glint in his eye. "Irene Adler."

* * *

**Yeah. I did it. She's back. Hey, if the guys can make a comeback then so can the woman. :P I was incredibly unsure about posting this though, I've been toying with the idea for ages and she probably is one of the hardest character to write but I hope it works! Let me know please! :D Also, I'm close to 150 follows now! Let's do it people! WOO! **


	8. Chapter 8

**1 away from 160 follows! woooooo! :D Thank you so much for reading this. I enjoyed writing this chapter and I hope you enjoy reading it. :)**

* * *

"So why are we here exactly?" Lestrade asked as he stopped the car at St Bart's. The cab driver, John and Sherlock had all squeezed into the back after Mary and Sherlock had had a debate over who should ride in front. After Mary played the 'pregnant' card, Sherlock didn't really have a leg to stand on. He had insisted however that John sit in the middle causing John to breath a huge sigh of relief as they opened the doors and got out. The cab driver wasn't exactly the smallest man in the universe and Sherlock didn't seem too keen on squeezing up any further to make more room.

"What question does Moriarty want us to ask more than any other?" Sherlock responded and it was Mary who answered.

"How he survived. He probably wants an excuse to gloat."

"Moriarty needs no excuse to gloat but that is the question that he wants us to ask, yes. But why?" He wondered, his brow creasing in concentration.

"Why?" The cab driver asked after a brief pause and Sherlock looked at him with a baffled expression.

"Sorry, did that sound like an open question? I don't know, that's what we're here to find out." He replied with an irritated tone and the man looked utterly bewildered as they all went into the hospital.

"Don't worry, it takes him a while to warm up to new people." John muttered to the man as they walked but even he could tell from his body language just how out of place he felt.

Sherlock came to an abrupt stop as the corridor they were walking down split into two ways. He turned to face Lestrade who managed to stop himself from walking into him.

"You need to find Molly's co-workers, ask them anything that they know about her, favourite places to eat, to shop, where she gets her hair cut, boring things like that." He said and Lestrade frowned.

"Hang on, where are you going?" He asked.

"To try and look at Moriarty's autopsy report." He replied with a glint in his eye but Lestrade crossed his arms in defiance.

"Sherlock. They're not just going to let you look at that, it's evidence now, you'll need a warrant. I should come with you." He argued but Sherlock shook his head.

"No, I need you to find out about Molly and take... erm -." Sherlock waved his hand at the cab driver.

"Dale." He said when he realised what Sherlock was after.

"Right. Take Dale with you."

"But, why do we need to ask about Molly?" Lestrade asked, obviously confused. John and Sherlock exchanged a glance as they both realised that neither of them had explained the full situation to him.

"Moriarty has Molly, Greg." John replied and the Detective's reaction was instant.

"What?" He yelled. "Why the bloody hell did you not tell me that?" He rounded on Sherlock who began to look a little uncomfortable.

"It must have slipped my mind." He mumbled and Lestrade pointed his finger at him.

"Is this your fault?" He hissed and Sherlock raised his hands and eyebrows simultaneously.

"No! No, I tried to get her to stay in a safe place but Moriarty was one step ahead of me. He picked her up in a cab." He explained, his eyes flicking over to Dale who was preoccupied watching a nurse walk down the corridor, obviously oblivious to their conversation. Lestrade looked at him too, putting two and two together and John was sure that he went a little pink with anger.

"You better make sure she's okay Sherlock or I swear to God -." He began quietly but Sherlock stopped him by stepping closer to him.

"Greg, I won't rest until I find her. I promise you." He said, the seriousness of his tone and expression, and possibly the fact that Sherlock used his real name, silencing Lestrade. There was a pause as they looked at each other wordlessly, Greg probably deciding if he was happy how much Sherlock meant his words before he nodded once.

"Okay then. Now I really have to come with you to help you get that report." Lestrade said but Sherlock shook his head.

"No. You have to interview her co-workers. Find out about what they know about her."

"But -." Lestrade tried but Sherlock had already turned away from him and was walking the opposite way.

"Use those brilliant detective skills of yours. Impress me." He called as he walked away and Lestrade muttered something in annoyance under his breath that sounded quite a lot like the word 'prick' to John.

They walked into the lab quickly, their strides long and fast, Sherlock leading in front with Mary and John close behind. Sherlock threw open the doors and they came to a stop in the room, all of them noticing the absense of Molly buzzing around the tables and peering at the various pieces of equipment. It felt strange without her there and it only solidified her situation in John's mind. He felt Mary grab his hand for a brief moment and he was sure it was a gesture of comfort for him and probably for herself too. He looked at her and smiled sadly.

"We'll find her." He whispered and Mary nodded confidently before they both turned to look at a different woman who had been in the room when they had arrived.

Her eyes were wide in alarm and she had probably been shocked by their sudden, unannounced entrance. That was something Molly had seemed to have gotten used to over the years.

"Can... Can I help you?" She stammered and Sherlock smiled warmly, causing John to raise his eyebrow and smile slightly in amusement as he realised that Sherlock was going to try the soft approach.

"I really hope you can." Sherlock replied, his voice gentle as he moved a bit closer to her. "Jenna, is it?" He asked, reading her identity card. She nodded quickly, her eyes still doe-like and John was suddenly reminded of the Molly he had first met four years ago, completely intimidated by Sherlock. "Jenna, I was wondering if we could possibly take a look at Jim Moriarty's autopsy report. I know I shouldn't be asking but it would be such a help to us." He continued in the most polite voice he could manage. Jenna opened her mouth in realisation, letting out a little 'oh'.

"You're Sherlock Holmes." She said and he smiled again.

"That's me." He raised his eyebrows and laughed, a sound that sounded completely out of place to John. "Can we just have a quick look at it?" He asked again and she bit her lip in uncertainty.

"Well... I don't know. It's evidence so I should really have a warrant before showing you." She replied hesitantly and John rolled his eyes as he thought about what Lestrade had said only moments ago.

"Oh come on... I won't tell anyone and it really would be a big help." He tried but Jenna still didn't seem quite ready to give in. John watched Sherlock transform his face effortlessly into a mask of hurt and he couldn't even try and pretend that he wasn't impressed (and also a little concerned) at how believable he was.

"You see, it's... it's Molly." He began, his voice heavier as if he were trying to hold back emotion. "She's in danger and I think I can figure out a way to find her if I see that report. I don't have time to get a warrant and I'm worried that it will be too late soon." John could tell that the woman was breaking but she still managed to stand her ground, trying to back away from him as if that would help her.

"I don't know... I really want to help you and Molly, she's always really nice to me, but -." She tried to argue but Sherlock took a small step closer to her, his eyes now glistening with tears that he had managed to create.

"I never got to tell her... How I... How I really feel. That will haunt me for the rest of my life if I don't find her. Please Jenna. Help me find my Molly." He finished and John suddenly realised that he was staring with raised eyebrows and his mouth open, totally astounded by what Sherlock was doing. He would never cease to be amazed and also utterly shocked by Sherlock Holmes.

"Alright." Jenna gave in and John could swear that she had tears in her eyes. "But you can't tell anyone."

"I promise. Thank you Jenna." Sherlock replied gratefully but as she turned away to walk to her laptop, John caught Sherlock glance over at him and Mary to give them a wink causing Mary to let out a hushed astounded laugh.

John closed his mouth but shook his head as the three of them walked over to where Jenna was standing, all of them waiting in anticipation for her to open the file. When it popped up, Sherlock looked at it in excitement before turning to Jenna again.

"Would you mind if we had a few moments?" He asked kindly and Jenna shook her head.

"Not at all." She replied quietly before walking out of the lab, a sound of her sniffing echoing around the room before she left. When the door closed, John looked at Sherlock with his eyes wide.

"That was..." He began, not being able to find the right word.

"Brilliant." Mary finished and John was shocked to see that she looked impressed.

"No. Brilliant, no. Downright lying and quite mean actually, yes." He disagreed and Sherlock sighed.

"My little performance got us the report didn't it?" He replied.

"You made her cry."

"I gave her a good romantic story to restore her faith in love and men. She'll be fine." He answered before moving his finger to scroll down the screen on the laptop. "Now, what can you tell us?" He asked to the computer and John and Mary squinted down at the writing on the document, picking up words like 'suicide' and 'exit wound'. It was all fairly generic and nothing much seemed to stand out to John, especially nothing that could tell them how he managed to fake his death. He assumed that Sherlock's faked autopsy report was similar. That's when an idea hit him.

"Sherlock."

"Yes." Sherlock replied, drawing out the word, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"Molly helped you fix the autopsy report didn't she? Your report." He answered and Sherlock looked up at him. "That's how she helped you."

"That is partly how she helped me yes but not everything that she did." He responded before turning back to the laptop.

"But if you had Molly to help you fake the report then Moriarty must have had someone. He would have needed a Molly too." John continued and Sherlock smiled, not shifting his gaze.

"Good John. You're learning." He replied and John frowned at his condescending tone but before he could retort, Sherlock had began to speak again.

"Olivia Hurst." He said, hovering the cursor over the name at the bottom of the report. "Text that name to Lestrade. Tell him to try and get her to one side."

John took his phone out and tapped the message quickly, hitting send when he had finished and returning it back to his pocket, wondering what Sherlock was still looking for on the report. He was about to ask when the door that Jenna had left through opened again.

"I'm sorry but I can't let you stay any longer. If my boss finds out..." Jenna said, walking towards them and Sherlock snapped the lid closed on the laptop, standing up and not bothering to resume his façade from earlier.

"Nevermind, I have what I need anyway. Thank you." He said with less feeling than before and she looked quite confused when they turned from her and walked out of the room briskly.

* * *

**Sherlock and his manipulation... damn him and his lovable face... Let me know what you think! :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**100 reviews! Woooooo! Thank you! They are really what keep me going, like really. :) Your support is awesome. Bit of Lestrade for you now. :)  
**

* * *

Lestrade walked through the corridors, only realising just after Sherlock had disappeared that he had no idea where to look for people who knew Molly. Dale was trailing behind him, neither he nor Greg sure why he was really there. As soon as Moriarty contacted him, if he contacted him, he wouldn't be needed anymore but until that time, he was just tagging along.

"Excuse me." Greg said to a passing man who was wearing a white coat, similar to the one he often saw Molly wearing. The man stopped and smiled at him.

"Yes?"

"Hi. Detective Inspector Lestrade." Greg introduced himself, pulling out his identity card and letting the man look at it. "Do you know Molly Hooper? She works in the Pathology lab. I need to ask some questions about her to people that might know her." Greg asked and the man frowned, the name obviously meaning nothing to him.

"No I don't but if you're looking for the Pathologists, they'll be back down that corridor and on the right next to the stairs." He replied and Lestrade rolled his eyes. Sherlock had sent them the wrong way.

"Thank you." He said before walking back the way they came, Dale jogging to catch up with him. "Of course he sent us the wrong way." Greg muttered to himself as Dale reached him.

"So, why are we asking about this girl?" Dale wondered and Lestrade found himself a little irritated by him at his reference to Molly.

"She's not just some random girl. She's a friend of ours and she's in trouble. We need to find out where she is." He responded, still walking quickly.

"And what does that have to do with me?" Dale asked and Lestrade stopped as they came to the right door, turning to face him before they went in.

"Well Dale, considering the man who has her used your cab to kidnap her, I'm going to say that you have a lot to do with it." He replied and the cab driver looked instantly worried.

"Am I in trouble?" He asked and Greg sighed.

"No, just stick around until your cab shows up and then you can go." Greg answered, realising as he spoke to him that they were wasting time. Dale looked a little more relaxed as Greg turned to the door and knocked on it, opening it after a pause.

The room they walked into looked like a little break room and sat on the chairs that were scattered around it were a few more people in white coats. There was one man and two women who all looked up at Lestrade and Dale as the door opened.

"Hello. I'm Detective Inspector Lestrade and this is erm... This is Dale." He motioned to the driver who gave a little, uncertain nod to them. "I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about Molly Hooper." He continued and two of them looked confused, even a little alarmed that a detective was asking questions about Molly. However, the other woman in the room looked to the floor as if she had suddenly become very interested in her shoes.

"Is she okay? We haven't seen her since this morning when we all found out about... Well, you know. The guy on the telly." The woman asked hurriedly and Lestrade sighed when he realised how everyone was now referring to Moriarty. 'The guy on the telly' made him sound like a celebrity rather than a psychopath.

"I mean, we were all pretty worried about how she'd take it, you know with their history and all." The man added and Greg frowned at him.

"History? What history?" He asked and even Dale seemed a little more interested.

"Well it was a couple of years ago now but that guy, the one on the tel-"

"Moriarty. His name is Moriarty." Lestrade interrupted the woman who shrugged.

"Okay, 'Moriarty -,'" she emphasised the name and Greg was heavily reminded of a teenager who had just been scolded by a parent. "- used to work here, in the IT department." She continued to which the man nodded.

"They went out a couple of times." He said and Lestrade laughed.

"What? Molly went out with Jim Moriarty?" He asked, not believing them.

"Oh yeah, Jim! That was his name." The woman responded and Greg frowned, realising that they were telling the truth. "Obviously no-one knew who he really was at the time but still..." She continued.

"No-one really gets over dating a guy like that." The man finished and Lestrade looked at them in annoyance, finding himself getting quite irritated by them as they seemed to be enjoying this situation far too much. Wanting to ignore them, he flicked his eyes over to the other woman who was still sat on the chair, not looking or responding to any of them and he started to wonder why.

"And how about you? Can you tell me anything about Molly?" Lestrade asked and the woman looked up at him, not answering for a moment.

"Who me?" She asked eventually and Greg smiled.

"Yes, you. Anything to add? You must have worked with Molly too."

"Erm... Not really. We didn't talk much." She replied simply and Greg was getting the feeling that she was keeping something from him but before he could challenge her, he felt his phone vibrate.

_**'Try and find someone called Olivia Hurst and if you do, get her on her own. She might be hiding something about Moriarty. JW' **_

Greg read John's text a few times before looking at the woman again, something telling him that she was the woman that they were after but he couldn't scare her, he knew that she'd bail if he did. Instead, Lestrade cleared his throat and looked back at the other two annoying people.

"Can I take your names please? Just for the my report." He asked in the most light-hearted way that he could.

"Henry Turpine and Kayleigh Stott." The woman answered for both of them, not helping Lestrade warm to them any further. They were like some strange double act.

"Okay, and your name please Miss -?" He asked to the woman who sighed, fidgeting with her hands.

"Erm, Olivia. Olivia Hurst." She replied, her leg twitching too and Greg resisted the urge to smile as he wrote down her name. He managed to keep on a poker face as he took out his phone again and typed out a reply to John.

_**'Got her here. We're in the staff room a few doors down from you. L'  
**_  
Now he just had to keep her here and get rid of the other two. It was time to get his 'boss' head on again.

"Right, I think I've got what I need from you two so if you could give me, Dale and Olivia a moment please." He said firmly but with a forced smile on his face. The pair looked at each other with a bit of a defeated expression before they got up and walked out slowly as if hoping to catch one more piece of conversation but Lestrade walked over to the door and closed it behind them as soon as he could.

"Right." He said, turning back to Olivia who looked even more uncomfortable now that they were alone. "Are you sure that there is nothing you want to tell me? The others have gone now and Dale is..." He glanced over at the cab driver who was stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. "Well, he's just Dale. You can tell me Olivia." Greg was trying so hard to make his voice as gentle as he could and it seemed to work for a moment as she dropped her hands and looked at him.

"Look, I'm sorry Detective but there is nothing that I can tell you." She replied and Greg sighed and dropped his head before shrugging at her.

"Alright. I gave you a chance to tell me but I do know that you're hiding something Olivia and the guy who is coming to talk to you now will get it out of you even if you're dragged through the mud." He warned, replaying his words in his head as she frowned at him. "Metaphorically." He had to stop himself from wincing in embarrassment at the thought that he was making him and Sherlock sound like 'good cop, bad cop'.

"I'm not going to say anything to him either. I have nothing to say." She argued and Lestrade raised an eyebrow at her.

"That's the thing, he doesn't need you to say anything." Greg replied with a small smile and before Olivia could retort, the door swung open behind them.

"Ahh, Olivia." Sherlock exclaimed as he walked through the door with John and Mary behind him. As he moved into the room, he stopped to stand beside Dale and frown at him as if he just realised that he was there. "You're still here?" He asked and Dale stammered.

"Well I thought that... Erm... You know."

"Never mind." Sherlock interrupted, turning his attention back to Olivia and Dale fell silent, looking even more out of place than before. Without saying anything else, he pulled out his phone and began to mess with it, probably trying to keep himself occupied. As Lestrade watched him, he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him.

"I just told this guy that I'm not saying anything to you. I have nothing to tell you." Olivia said stubbornly to Sherlock, her eyes fixed back on her hands and Sherlock laughed shortly as he walked over to her.

"Well that is a shame considering that it's your name written on Jim Moriarty's autopsy report and considering that he isn't actually dead, I'd say that the worst you're looking at is maybe a prison sentence and the best, losing your job." He walked closer to her as he spoke, pausing afterwards to look at her with the intense eyes that he usually saved for interrogations. "And I don't think that your family would appreciate that, especially your sister considering she looks up to you so much." He added and Olivia stared up at him in surprise.

"How did you -?"

"Now, tell us about him. When did he come to you?" He interrupted her question but she just looked back down and remained silent. Sherlock looked over at Lestrade with eyes that told him to say something to help. Quickly, he thought of something and but on his 'no messing around' voice.

"Now I know that you performed Moriarty's autopsy, If you don't tell us anything Olivia I can arrest you for wasting police time or even liasing with a wanted criminal. It can carry quite a sentence." He warned and looked over at Sherlock for confirmation that that was what he wanted. Sherlock nodded a little as Olivia at back in her chair, running her hand through her hair and suddenly looking dejected.

"Alright, alright." She sighed and looked up at Sherlock. "What do you want to know?" She asked and he placed his hands in his coat pockets as he answered.

"Everything."

* * *

**So that was a little shorter than some of the other chapters but it was part of a much bigger chapter and I felt like it needed splitting. Please let me know what you think! Can we make 150 reviews next? I'll do a huge dance to the Sherlock theme tune if so... :P**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10! Double figures, oh yeah :) Thank you for sticking with it and for all your follows, favourites and reviews so far! I just hope you all carry on liking it :) This chapter I am very nervous about and I think you'll see why. It's a bit darker than some of the others but hey, we're in the middle of the story now. :P**

* * *

Everyone waited silently as Olivia looked at her hands, preparing for what she was about to say. Greg didn't dare to speak incase he put her off and he was sure that was everyone else's thought too. After a few moments Greg looked at Sherlock who was just looking at her patiently, until she spoke.

"I was working late one night on my own when he came in. At the time, I just thought that he was 'Jim from IT', I had no idea who he really was so I was fine with him being there." She inhaled deeply for a second and closed her eyes. "That's until he didn't seem to want anything from me, he just wanted to talk which was a bit strange considering I hadn't really met him before. He started asking me questions about myself and in the end, I got a little weirded out and confronted him about it. That's when he changed." Lestrade was watching Olivia carefully, seeing the stubborn facade that she was wearing slowly fade into the truth that she was scared but as he listened to her, he was quite surprised that Sherlock wasn't making her skip most of her story, he seemed to be listening to her just as intently as Greg was.

"At first I thought he was joking but everything about him changed, his voice, the way he stood, his eyes. All kindness in his face disappeared and it didn't take long for me to realise that he was dangerous." Olivia continued and John folded his arms as he stood near Greg.

"Did he threaten you?" John asked and Olivia nodded.

"He told me that he wanted me to do something for him in the future and that if I didn't agree, he would find the thing that I most cared about and destroy it. It was dark and I was alone with him and he looked so terrifying that I believed him straight away. He went away and didn't come back until weeks later. That's when he told me what he wanted me to do." She stood up after she spoke and walked away from them towards the window as Sherlock continued to watch her.

"He asked you to fake the report." He said but she did not turn to face him when she replied.

"That's not all."

"What else did he ask you to do Olivia?" Lestrade asked, walking a little closer to her and she turned to face him, her eyes watery.

"I can't... I can't tell you. You don't understand how scary he is. How powerful he is." She replied, her voice shaking and John moved around the room to stand across from her.

"I get it. I've seen him and I've seen what you're scared of. The man strapped a bomb to my chest and almost blew me up so yeah, I get it." He said, his voice both firm and careful. "But if you don't tell us what you know then he's just going to carry on threatening more people and make them as terrified as we were." Olivia looked at him when he finished and gave a small nod.

"Okay." She whispered and closed her eyes. "He asked me to be part of a group he called his 'pawns' and I'm not the only one he asked."

"What do you mean?" Lestrade asked after waiting a little for her to elaborate.

"She means that there are others like her in St Bart's. People that Moriarty has got to and people that he is now using to his advantage in this new 'group' of his." Sherlock answered for her, looking a little disappointed with the term 'group'. Olivia nodded again.

"But it's not just St Bart's. He's everywhere. He has dirt on everyone so he can blackmail anyone he likes. This is bigger than you're imagining Mr Holmes." Olivia said, now looking directly at Sherlock who moved closer to her so that he was in front of her.

"How big?" He asked quietly and Olivia shook her head.

"No-one is sure."

"'No-one is sure'." Sherlock repeated, thinking on her words. "You make it sound like you communicate with the other members of..." He paused and sighed, his face full of exasperation. "This group." He finished, rolling his eyes at John. He obviously did not agree with Moriarty's name choice for them.

"We don't know each other's real names or what everyone looks like but we communicate when he wants us to and if he needs us to." She responded and Lestrade folded his arms, feeling more and more uncomfortable with the situation as he learned more.

"When you say they're everywhere, where else do you mean?" Greg asked and Olivia bowed her head and covered her eyes with her hands.

"I can't say." She replied, returning back into her scared shell. "He'll kill her." She whispered, almost inaudibly but Sherlock had obviously heard and moved even closer to her.

"Your sister." He said and Olivia looked up at him with terrified eyes.

"What? How did you -?"

"It has to be someone incredibly close to you that he's threatened as the way you are fighting giving us information says that it is someone you worry about constantly. The protective way you talk suggests it is certainly someone younger than you, someone you feel maternal about; not a child though, there's no ring on your finger and you aren't the kind to do anything without being confident of security, the type of phone you have and the ridiculous size of the casing it's in points to that, so my guess would be a younger sister." He replied and Greg looked at Olivia closely, trying to see what he had seen but all he could just about manage was to see an old looking phone poking out of her pocket. Olivia stared at him, looking just as baffled as Greg was before nodding slowly.

"That's right. He wasn't lying about you was he?" Olivia muttered, her eyes flicking to Greg for a moment before she continued.

"He says that he'll kill her if I don't do what he says. He knows where she lives, where she works, even where she gets her haircut. He'll do it, I know he will." Her voice became higher and more panicked as she talked and Lestrade could sense that they were starting to lose her but they still needed her to talk.

"Olivia. Remember what I said. He is a dangerous man and he needs to be stopped and you can help us with that." John spoke again, his voice gentler than last time as he probably sensed the same thing as Lestrade. "We have the means to keep your sister safe, we can do that but you have to help us first." He added and Olivia looked at him, a little uncertainly.

"Molly needs your help Olivia." Mary said suddenly from across the room and Olivia looked at her in confusion.

"What?"

"Molly Hooper, the girl you work with, Moriarty has her. We need your help to find her." She replied and Olivia brought her finger up to her mouth to chew on her nail nervously. "Now imagine if your sister was where Molly is now, wouldn't you want someone to help her too?" She asked and Lestrade could see a small smile appear on Sherlock's face. Mary had obviously said exactly the right thing.

"Okay. I can't believe I'm doing this but, okay." She replied quietly after a moment at walked back over to the window as she spoke. "I can tell you where the rest of them are and what little I know about them but you have to promise me that you'll look after my sister." She turned to face Lestrade who nodded.

"We'll do our very best." He replied.

"Now, what do you know? And we need names if you can, even if you aren't sure if they're their real ones, just tell us everything you know, starting with the main places he targets people." Sherlock said urgently and Olivia took a shaky breath.

"Well, a lot of them are right under your nose. There's St Bart's and Sco-." She began to speak but what happened next made Lestrade's blood run cold as Mary's scream echoed around the room. The window that Olivia was in front of shattered as a bullet pierced the glass and hit Olivia in the head. She fell instantly, crimson liquid pooling underneath her as everyone in the room stared in horror at her on the floor. John ran up to her quickly and began to examine her, moving his hands around her to check for a pulse and breathing and Mary joined him seconds later, doing the same thing.  
Sherlock instead sprinted over to the window his eyes darting out of the shattered glass and up towards the building opposite them, searching frantically for any sign of the gunman.

"Did the shot come from up there?" Lestrade asked as he pulled out his phone.

"It had to have done. There's no other way." Sherlock replied, now looking at the spiked glass that still clung to the frame. Lestrade looked at John and Mary hovering over Olivia as he called for backup, sending them immediately to the building that Sherlock was looking at before he spun around and opened the door to the room.

"We need help in here!" He yelled into the corridor where a group of doctor's, who had probably heard the commotion, were making their way over. At Lestrade's call they ran in and ordered John and Mary to stand away. They did so slowly and John put his arm around his wife and steered her away back towards Greg who was beginning to feel a little light-headed. He couldn't believe what had just happened.

A faint sound of a phone vibrating came from over where Sherlock was standing and he stopped what he was doing immediately and pulled out his phone, looking at it with cold eyes before walking over to the others, holding his phone up so that they could see it.

_**'You made me sacrifice a piece. I'm not happy with you Sherlock. JM'**_ It read and Lestrade felt a boiling anger rise up inside of him just as another sound of a phone came from his right. They all looked at Dale who was as pale as a sheet, his eyes wide as he stared at where Olivia was. With a shaking hand, he took out his phone and Sherlock didn't wait for him to look at it himself before he walked over and took it off him but Dale seemed in too much shock to protest.

"The cab. He's given us an address." Sherlock said and John cleared his throat.

"What now? We can't just leave, a woman has just been shot." He replied, his voice betraying how much Olivia's sudden death had effected him.

"No, you're right. I'll go on my own. Besides, I need you three to start finding the rest of them. You heard Olivia, they're everywhere. Start at St Bart's and Scotland Yard, talk to people, see who may have started acting differently, behaviour patterns that changed, routines that suddenly switched. He's picking on ordinary people and threatening them to do his work. This is the beginning of his new web and we need to destroy it before it gets out of hand." Sherlock responded before throwing the phone back at Dale.

"And you're free to leave when you like." He said simply to the driver before walking to the door but John stopped him.

"Sherlock. Why are you going on your own? What did the text say?" He asked.

"I just told you -."

"No, even you wouldn't be cold enough to rush away straight after what just happened. Something in that text is making you leave." John protested and Sherlock sighed.

"I have a feeling that I am about to meet an old acquaintance and I think she would prefer it if I went unaccompanied." He replied quietly and John frowned in confusion.

"She?"

"Surely coming back from the dead isn't such an unbelievable thing any more, is it John?" Sherlock replied cryptically before flipping the collar up on his coat and leaving, John staring after him still confused before his mouth popped open in realisation.

"Oh my God." He whispered before leaning out of the door to shout after Sherlock. "Not a good idea!" He yelled but Sherlock had turned the corner and walked away, leaving John to turn and face Lestrade and Mary who were looking at him inquisitively. "He's going to meet Irene Adler." He explained.

"Who?" Greg asked as Mary let out a quiet 'oh'.

"The woman with the photos. Remember?" John replied and Greg began to place who they were talking about, frowning as he did so.

"But she died didn't she?" He asked and John laughed once.

"Well, that makes three of them back from the dead doesn't it?" He responded before directing his gaze at Olivia's body lying on the floor. "I just wish that the same thing could happen for her."

* * *

**So there were go... Moriarty is a bad man. So why the hell is he so likeable? Damn Andrew Scott. :P I hope this was okay! Moriarty is back with a new web and he doesn't want it being spoiled this time. Let me know what you think!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello! Sorry that it seems to be taking me longer to reply to reviews etc. Lots of stuff going on at the moment so I'm trying desperately to get onto a computer when I can. I'm still so greatful for all your support so thank you very much! :) This chapter is a tad random but I wrote it a while back now and really wanted to include it so here it is. :) Hope you like!**

* * *

Molly had barely moved after Irene had left her attention now on Moriarty who stared at her from the other end of the room. He didn't speak for a moment, silent only to watch her but slowly she began to see a smile appear on his face until she heard him begin to laugh softly and from the sound she could tell that she was part of the joke.

"Making you laugh am I?" She asked, still surprising herself with the confidence in her voice. She had no idea where she was managing to muster it from. Moriarty raised his eyebrows at her in surprise and amusement.

"Just thinking." He replied with a shrug and the smirk on his face made Molly want to hit him but she stayed backed to the wall, her feet not letting her move. "Just thinking about how I managed to play you so easily as 'Jim from IT'." He continued, the last three words said with the fake London accent that he had used with Molly when she had first met him. "It would have been more fun if it hadn't have been so hideously easy. All I had to do was smile at you and you were like putty in my hand. You just so wanted to be loved." He mocked her with a sarcastic look on his face and Molly wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. Being in the house was bad enough but she was sure that being stuck in it with Jim Moriarty would be too much to handle.

"I ended it." She responded, cringing at how feeble her words sounded, especially when Moriarty placed his hand over his chest in a fake act of pain.

"Oh and it hurt Molly. I couldn't sleep for weeks." He replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm before a ringing came from his pocket. Slowly he took out his phone, his gaze still not leaving her. "Don't pretend that I didn't get you. You were embarrassingly desperate, if I'd have wanted you to, you would have followed me all the way down the aisle." He continued, his expression making his words darker than they seemed and Molly repressed a shiver as he placed the phone to his ear.

"Make it quick." He said into the phone and a silence followed for a few moments that made Molly anxious. She watched as Moriarty's face turned to stone, his eyes even darker then they were before. He began to walk towards the door of the room slowly, exiting without even a glance at Molly and when he spoke again, his voice was calm but dangerous. "When she goes too far he tells me. Then you wait for my order. Get it wrong and I'll find someone else to fire a bullet at your head." The door closed and she exhaled in relief as her mind began to drift back to what he had said about her. Was she really that desperate that she had fallen for a man like him? Had she really fallen at all? She had convinced herself that she hadn't but she hadn't really thought about it.

The thought that she had dated Moriarty had repulsed her as soon as she had found out the truth and all memories of 'Jim from IT' had been pushed to the back of her mind but for the first time since she had learned who he really was, she let herself remember...

* * *

_The night was beginning to fall and Molly waited nervously in her flat, checking the time every two seconds to make sure that she wasn't being stood up. She told herself not to worry, that he was a nice guy and it wasn't anything serious but she couldn't help the first date jitters from arising._

_It wasn't often that Molly went out with men. She usually felt like a rambling fool who managed to turn everything she said into something embarrassing. Usually it was because she had downed a glass of wine beforehand, trying to dull the nagging voice in her head that wouldn't let her forget who she really wanted to be taking her out and who she wished would pay her even the slightest bit of attention._ _But then she had met Jim from IT and he had been so warm and kind that she hadn't felt as afraid to talk to him. They worked together on a couple of things, one needing a favour from the other or vice versa until he had finally asked her out for a drink. Molly had said yes quickly, probably a little too quickly with hindsight, but he had seemed to be pleased that she had agreed and now she was waiting for him, with two minutes to go until he had said he would be there to pick her up._

_Molly used her hands to flatten down her curled hair before she ran to the mirror to check her reflection one more time. She wore a fitted blue dress that she felt complimented her eyes which were highlighted with a line of black eyeliner and rimmed with more mascara than usual and her lips were a deep shade of pink. She made sure that she was wearing her lipstick._

'I thought it was a big improvement. Mouth's too small now.'

_Molly shook her head as Sherlock's voice suddenly echoed in her mind. She had to forget him tonight otherwise it would end the same way her dates always did: on her own with a bottle of wine and whole big bar of chocolate whilst watching repeats of 'Friends'._

_A knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts and she took one last quick glance at her reflection before walking to the door. She inhaled deeply to calm herself before fixing a smile on her face and opening it to see Jim standing there, smiling also as he held a white rose in his hand._

_"Tradition on a first date." He said as she noticed it and made a 'aww isn't that sweet' noise._

_"Thank you, that's really nice of you." She replied, a blush rising on her cheeks as she took the flower from him. "Come in, I won't be too long, I've just got to grab my coat." She moved to turn away from him but stopped when he spoke._

_"Actually, I brought some wine with me. I thought we might have drinks here instead." He said, a little nervously and Molly raised her eyebrows, a little taken aback._

_"Oh." Was all she said and she mentally cursed herself when nothing else came to her mind._

_"I just thought that we don't really know each other very well yet and I would quite like to change that. It'll be easier to talk here than in a loud bar somewhere." He said and when she still didn't speak, he looked down at his feet and put his hands in his pockets, shifting uncomfortably. "But I understand if you don't want to, we can still go out, I -." He mumbled and Molly forced her brain to work._

_"No, no! That's a much nicer idea. Yeah, it would be nice to get to know each other." She responded quickly, her words tumbling out as her mind told her to stop using the word 'nice'. Jim didn't seem to notice however and his face suddenly lit up in a relieved smile._

_"Oh okay, I thought you were going to think I was bonkers for suggesting that." He sighed, the way his eyes glittered making her realise why she had been attracted to him in the first place_

_._ _"No, not at all." She replied before leading him into her living room. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll get some glasses." Molly took the bottle from him and quickly went into her kitchen and dug through the cupboards to find two wine glasses, her heart beating even faster now that Jim had actually turned up. She let herself take a breath before she poured the wine and when she turned back to face him, glasses in hand, she saw that he was wandering around the room, looking at the various pictures and decorations that she had._

_"This your family then?" He asked when she reached him, pointing at a picture of her when she was younger, standing next to her parents. She smiled sadly at it as she handed Jim his glass, not noticing as she looked at it that his attention had now turned to her._

_"Yeah. Me, Mum and Dad. I was about thirteen there." She responded, taking a sip of her wine. _

_"Oh. Do you still live near them?" He asked and Molly felt the hurt that always came when she thought of her parents for too long hit her._

_"My Mum moved away a while ago and erm... My dad... Well...He died." She mumbled, clutching her glass tighter and dropping her eyes to the floor. She couldn't believe that she was getting upset on their first date. This had to be one of the worst starts to one that she had ever had. Just as she turned to walk away, sure that she had blown it, she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder and looked up at Jim who was looking at her, his eyes full of sympathy._

_"I'm really sorry." He said quietly and Molly was momentarily speechless for a moment before she shook her head._

_"No, it's fine. It was a while ago now." She whispered before clearing her throat and stepping away from him to sit down on her sofa, the intensity of his eyes as they stared down at her becoming too much for her. "Do you have any family around here?" She asked, forcing a lighter tone into her words. Jim smiled and shook his head as he sat down next to her._

_"Nah. Just me here in London." He responded, not elaborating any further, the pause that followed caused Molly to take another sip of her wine._

_"So, who's that guy that always comes to visit you in the lab?" He asked suddenly and Molly looked at him, her eyes wide as she tried to picture who he was referring to. "You know, the one with the crazy curly hair, he's always hanging around your lab. Should I be jealous?" He added with a playful laugh and Molly laughed too but nervously as she began to feel a little flustered. Of all the things (or people) that she wanted to be talking about, this was not one of them._

_"Oh, that's just Sherlock Holmes. He comes in to steal my equipment for his cases." She replied, her voice high and she took another drink._

_"Cases?" He asked and Molly tried not to pull an exasperated face. She did not want to talk about Sherlock._

_"He's a consulting detective." She answered shortly._

_"Oh yeah, I think I've seen his name in the papers. Isn't he like, insanely clever or something?" He asked and Molly sighed quietly, realising that there was no backing out of this topic now._

_"Pretty much. He picks up on things that normal people wouldn't even look twice at. For example, once, he managed to deduct that one of the victims that I was working, hadn't in fact committed suicide but had been murdered, just from how his shoes were tied." She explained, watching Jim as he listened intently, his expression almost excited._

_"Wow. That's impressive." He responded and Molly nodded in agreement._

_"And that's not even the most impressive thing he's done." She sighed and Jim just smiled._

_"You'll have to introduce me when he's next around. I'd quite like to meet him." He said and Molly frowned a little, confused at how they had managed to talk about how brilliant Sherlock was on their first date._

_"Sure." She replied, determined now to change the topic. "So how long have you worked at St Bart's for?"_

_The night passed with a lot of small talk, basic questions that Jim seemed to ask a lot of but not answer too many of himself. She talked about her job, different cases she had worked and people she worked with (Sherlock popped up a few more times, each time earning a 'I'll have to meet him' from Jim). She even started talking about her childhood nearer the end of the night but she was still non-the-wiser about him._ _The wine went fairly quickly but Molly was sure that she had drank the majority of it. She didn't mind too much though, it had made her feel a little bit more relaxed and generally happier about how the evening had gone._

_"Well, I'd better be off. Early shift tomorrow." Jim said after a couple of hours of sitting and talking. Molly nodded and quickly followed suit when he stood up from the sofa. They walked to the door and Jim put his hand on the handle as he turned to face her._ _"Thank you for a lovely night Molly. It was good to get to know you a bit better." He said with a smile and she nodded again._

_"It was a good idea to stay here. We should do it again sometime and maybe I'll let you talk a bit." She joked with a small laugh which Jim echoed. _

_"No, I don't mind. I like listening." He replied before stepping forward towards her. "It was good to find out about you." He said and Molly felt her cheeks begin to burn as she realised both how close he was and also that the goodbye was approaching._

_"Yeah. Tonight was really nice." She replied, mentally scolding herself for using the word 'nice' again but soon forgot about it when her brain began to wonder if he would close the small gap between them and kiss her goodnight. His eyes glittered in the mesmerising way that she had noticed all evening and he smiled at her knowingly, making her tummy twist as she prepared herself for it._

_"Right. Well, see you tomorrow." He said suddenly, pulling the door open and stepping out into the corridor, turning to wave at her before disappearing down the stairs. Molly waved back and shut the door, leaning on it as it closed. She wasn't sure whether she was relieved or disappointed that he hadn't kissed her. In fact, she wasn't sure about the whole night._ _On paper Jim was the perfect guy, he was a good looking man (his eyes were especially lovely), he listened to her, he brought her roses, he was always so nice to her but that was it: He was nice. The evening was nice, the talking was nice but nothing to scream and shout about. She told herself that she needed something more interesting and exciting but deep-down she knew it was because Jim wasn't the man that would never leave her head. He wasn't Sherlock._

_Molly groaned to herself, wondering if she would ever be able to move on from him. He would never look twice at her in that way even if she wished for it with everything she had. She was nothing more than access to a lab for him. She didn't count in his life really but it never stopped him always counting in hers. She had to move on from Sherlock Holmes._ _With a more determined attitude, she walked back into the living room and grabbed her phone, finding Jim's name and beginning to type a message._

_**'Really enjoyed tonight. Would love to do it again sometime. M xx' **_

_And she sent it. She would get over Sherlock, she just had to give herself a chance and Jim was her chance._

* * *

**As the situation that Molly is in forces her to be near Moriarty again, I think that the whole 'Jim from IT' episode would have to be addressed. I had this idea and wrote it and I wanted to put it in the story so I hope you all liked it and didn't find it too random! I quite enjoyed writing it. :) Let me know what you think pleeeeeease! :D  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**Okay! I'm sorry the updates have been a little slower recently! Everything is a bit crazy at the moment but I'm still writing! This chapter is pretty long too :) Thank you again for your reviews! (70 to go until I do the Sherlock dance!) and I'm also only 2 people away from 200 follows which is just crazy! I do hope you all like this one! :)**

* * *

The evening was beginning to fall, the change bringing with it the glow of London in the dark. Street lights and shop signs glinted off the glossy black exterior of the cab that Sherlock was sat in. He barely moved as it glided through the streets, his eyes closed as he thought on all the information that he had collated that day, trying to sort out what was useful from what was not, including any form of attachment or emotion that could prove as a distraction.

He played over everything in his head: Moriarty returning, the timing of his broadcast, the choice of his words in Lady Smallwood's office, his choosing Molly for his hostage...

He had to find Molly, he couldn't let her be alone much longer. She would be frightened and he didn't like that thought.  
No. That was worrying and worrying was a distraction.

He flicked his head slightly to shake the thought away before he zoned back in onto the cab driver. Dale his name was. Something about his manner was peculiar and also how easily he followed their instructions. Could be because he had nothing else to do or because he was afraid of police, both were possible and fairly probable but there wasn't much else to go on. There was nothing too alerting about the man for Sherlock to bother with straight away so he could wait for now. With a twitch of his head, he was swiped away.

Then Olivia. She had been terrified to the point of feeling suffocated, her body language and black circles under her eyes showed that she had no rest from her worrying. But she had two years to be rid of Moriarty and the part she played in his lie which meant he still used her whilst he was pretending to be dead. So Moriarty was recruiting ordinary people to help him, even when he was supposedly dead, and killing them if they got in his way...

Which probably wouldn't have happened if Sherlock had just played his hand more carefully.  
No, that was regret. Never a useful emotion.

Another flick of his head and the thought vanished as he thought on Moriarty's new recruits. They were everywhere it seemed but unlike the last web, the one that Sherlock had destroyed, they were normal people. This meant it was weaker, rushed and less advanced, built in the short space of two years but surely he wouldn't have just relied on ordinary people of London. That wasn't like Moriarty at all. He would have needed someone else. Someone who thought more like him. He just had to find out who.

And maybe that would be where Irene Adler could help. Sherlock thought on the text that Dale had received, one word telling him who was texting as soon as he read it.

_**'Your cab is near 'The Connaught'. Let's have dinner.' **_

Why was Irene involved? Sherlock was positive that Moriarty would have been more than annoyed at her after Sherlock had recovered her phone but why wait until now to use her? His mind was buzzing with questions, filling his brain with too much noise and too many puzzles. If he continued like this then it would be easy for Moriarty to gain the upper hand. With a swipe of his finger in the air, he batted away all the voices in his mind and left only one question, ready for his meeting. Why Irene Adler?

Sherlock's eyes snapped open as the cab he was in began to slow down. Wordlessly, he payed the driver before he opened the door and stepped out onto the pavement. The evening chill hit him instantly and he adjusted his collar and wrapped his coat around him, trying to keep it off his body.

As he began to walk, his phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out to find he had a message.

_**'I'm in the Helene Darroze restaurant. Booking under my name. I do hope I won't be dining alone.'**_

Sherlock felt the side of his mouth curl up into a small smile and he placed the phone back in his pocket and continued to walk. He soon reached The Connaught Hotel and began to feel a stirring in the pit of his stomach. He stood momentarily outside the doors and frowned as he tried to place the feeling. Nerves? Anticipation? He couldn't tell and before he could try to figure it out any further, the door to the building opened as two people left, looking at him oddly as he stood there, unmoving, probably looking lost.

He smiled at them politely, regaining his composure, before walking through the same door that they exited through, the grandeur of the hotel filling every section of the room that he was now stood in. As soon as he entered, a smartly dressed man walked over to him and smiled a fixed smile that Sherlock could tell was well practised.

"Can I help you Sir?" He asked and Sherlock nodded.

"Yes. I have a table booked at the Helene Darroze under the name 'Adler'." He replied and Sherlock saw recognition flash onto the man's face as he nodded.

"Ah yes, you must be Mr Holmes. Right this way Sir." The man responded and Sherlock followed him, his mind not being able to resist figuring out what he could about him: Young man, early 20's, probably about 22. Hates his job but can't find much else around and the hotel probably helps him with attracting women and speaking of which, he has his own dinner planned tonight, probably in the very same restaurant that he was leading Sherlock to after his shift finished which would probably be in the next hour or so. He's not too nervous about it which means he probably does the 'date after work' thing quite often. If he's not careful, he'll find himself becoming a serial dater.

"Here you are Sir, let me take your coat and I'll get someone to take you to your table." The man said suddenly, stopping to take Sherlock's coat.

"Thank you." He replied as he watched another employee, a woman who was looking at the man a little too often and a little too eagerly, walk over to them.

"Diane will show you over." The man said and Sherlock smiled at her with his own well practised smile.

"Before you do, I'd consider again your affections for this man." He paused for a second to take in the look of surprise and embarrassment on her face. "For a start, he's meeting another woman tonight who he'll probably stay with for, what? Twelve hours at the most?" Sherlock looked at the man who's cheeks suddenly flushed and Sherlock smiled, taking that as proof that he was right. "Probably even ten. Give him another week or so and if you carry on giving him the 'googly eyes', he'll probably begin to notice you but you'll be nothing more than another name on his list. I'd stop the pining now and save yourself the heart break. It won't end well." He stopped and let the silence fill his ears as the girl stared at him and the man suddenly became very interested in the booking sheet next to him. Sherlock took the opportunity to peak over his shoulder and find Irene's name plus her table number. "I should be able to find my own way to the table." He finished before turning away from them, a smile that he couldn't fight creeping onto his face as he thought about the looks on the two employees' faces even though something told him that if John were here, he would have told him off for being too mean and probably too for being a show-off.

He turned around the corner, his eyes searching the tables quickly before they met hers and his mind was momentarily wiped. She smiled at him in the seductive way that he had imagined she would have. Her eyes glittered as she gave a small wave to him, his heart pace quickening as he walked over to the table. He remembered the more he looked at her how much she interested him. She was almost unreadible and her motives were never clear making her a constant puzzle and Sherlock couldn't resist a puzzle.

As he reached her, she went to stand up but he stopped her by holding his hand out towards her.

"Please." He said and she sat back down, the smile still on her face as he took the seat opposite her.

"So, I finally get to have dinner with you Mr Holmes." She said, her voice low.

"Well, to an extent. I'm working a case so I'm afraid I won't be eating. You enjoy yourself though, please." He replied, his voice careful and cold. Irene pouted at him slightly.

"Oh. And here I thought I had you all night." She responded, raising her hand in the air to catch the waiter's attention who ran over to her as soon as she did so. "I'll have to make the most of what time I have then." She added, not letting her eyes leave Sherlock's face, even as she began to address the waiter. "You're most expensive bottle of wine if you please. And be nice and quick about it." She finally looked at the waiter at her last request and he stammered something like 'yes of course' before hurrying away.

Sherlock watched him go and smiled, causing Irene to raise her eyebrows at him.

"What? Are you jealous of me paying attention to another man?" She asked and Sherlock let out a small laugh.

"No. Merely marvelling at how easy some men can be controlled by you." He replied, genuinely impressed by her manipulation skills and Irene smiled again.

"It's amazing what a good dress can do. Not that it seems to bother you." She replied and Sherlock ignored her last comment.

"As much as I'm enjoying our little get together. That's not why I'm here." He said and Irene frowned.

"You're after the cab? Oh it's round the corner. Nothing in it though, I had a look on my way over, I wouldn't waste your time."

"Nothing in it?" He asked and she shook her head. Sherlock looked closer at her expression and saw no hint that she was trying to deceive him so that cab must indeed be empty. 'Interesting', Sherlock thought but that could wait until later. "I thought as much but you know that's not why I'm here either." He looked at her intently and saw a flicker of something pass across her face but it was too quick to catch.

"Yes, of course. You're here about Molly." She responded just as the waiter came over with their wine. Sherlock and Irene didn't break eye-contact as he poured their drinks, silently trying to see what the other was thinking until Sherlock realised that the waiter was still there.

"Yes?" Sherlock asked suddenly to him and he jumped, a little startled before rushing away.

"Now that wasn't very nice." Irene scolded and Sherlock rolled his eyes at her.

"Molly. Where is she?" He asked firmly and Irene looked away from him to trace the top of her wine glass with her finger.

"What makes you think I know?" She asked, her tone innocent but Sherlock didn't have time for her games.

"Because on the day that Moriarty returns, so do you. Bit of a coincidence unless he is using you too as part of his new 'web'."

"Their called 'pawns'." She interrupted.

"I'm not calling them that. It's a stupid name."

"I know, it's awful isn't it?" She laughed before taking a sip of her wine.

"So why would he ask you for help? Well the only logical assumption would be to get you to distract me from trying to find Molly, which isn't working by the way, you can let him know that when you see him again because you will be seeing him again won't you? I'm assuming the wine is going on his tab also?" He asked and she didn't reply, only her eyes seemed to glitter in response. Sherlock continued without pressing the matter. "You are not one to do something without knowing all the facts therefore you know his plan so if you know about Molly then he would have made you part of his plot to keep from letting too many people in the loop so too to have less of a chance of anything slipping. I think you have seen her and I think you know where she is." He finished and waited for her to comment but Irene didn't speak for a moment, she just watched him until Sherlock had waited enough and was about to speak again.

"You say you aren't distracted." She said eventually. "But you're here with me in a fancy hotel instead of looking for her. I'd say that's being distracted."

"I'm researching." He replied simply as she raised her eyebrow at him.

"Oh?" She asked. "How so?"

"Because you will help me. I saved your life Irene. You owe me." He responded and Irene laughed again, her white teeth showing against the red of her lipstick.

"I owe you nothing. You put me in that position in the first place and in case you haven't realised, I have another, slightly scarier but albeit just as sexy, man hiring me to work against you so why would I help you?" She scoffed and Sherlock lent forward.

"Hiring you to help or forcing you?" He asked and for a moment, her façade betrayed her. He saw a glimpse of fear which was gone the second it came but it was enough for Sherlock to use.

"He's threatening you. Irene, what is he using against you?" He asked and Irene let out a cold laugh.

"My 'pressure point' you mean?" She asked and Sherlock faltered for a moment, too many things rushing into his head at once before she spoke again, causing him to throw his thoughts into a 'to be continued' room in his mind palace. He would return to them later.

"What do you think it is Sherlock? I care for nothing, only for myself. I have no-one that I love that he can threaten to hurt to make me do anything so what could he possibly use?" She asked, her face now more serious that it had been before.

"You. He's threatening to kill you. A tad dull for him but you value your life too much. It's the easiest option." He said matter-of-factly and Irene nodded.

"You know, it is interesting how much you think like him. Is that disappointing to you too that I am so easily bought by a threat on my life? It was to him." Sherlock didn't answer her and she raised her eyebrow. "You have to understand that I angered him when you made me fail the last task he gave me. I know he wants to kill me anyway, I'm just buying more time until I figure a way out." She continued, the fear back in her eyes as Sherlock watched her carefully, placing his hands together under his chin.

"What if I can help you escape again? If I could get you away from Moriarty. His web is weaker now, it would be easier this time. Would you help me find Molly then?" He bargained and Irene took a long sip of her wine, her eyes not leaving his until she placed down her glance and lent towards him.

"What is it about her that makes you care so much?" She asked quietly, her voice almost a hiss.

"Are you the one who is jealous Miss Adler?" He asked, raising his eyebrow at her and she sat back in her chair.

"Merely curious as to who got the infamously and infuriatingly asexual Sherlock Holmes all hot and bothered." She replied, her voice carrying a forced air of nonchalance. Sherlock smiled.

"Me? Of course not." He retorted and he saw her pull a face of disbelief at him. "She is my friend Irene and I care about her deeply." He added, completely serious and the switch in tone seemed to catch her attention.

"Why? She's so ordinary Sherlock! I spent an afternoon with the girl and I was bored to tears."

"So you do know where she is."

"You're not answering my question." She replied, her tone short. "What makes her so special?" Sherlock didn't reply straight away, trying to think truly for the first time what it was about Molly that he seemed to warm to.

"It's because of how ordinary she is that I care about her." He replied and Irene laughed.  
"Wow. You do now how to compliment a girl." She mocked sarcastically but Sherlock continued.  
"No, you misunderstand. There is nothing in her that is hateful or twisted or violent." A flash of remembrance hit him at his words as he thought of Molly slapping his face three times. He smiled. "Unless she is provoked. She is so utterly caring and trusting that I can't help but trust and care about her." Irene stared at him after he finished as if waiting for him to add that what he was saying was just a joke but he didn't speak.

"So you don't want to find her because of guilt? You want to find her because you care. Sherlock Holmes cares about another person that isn't John Watson. That makes two people now Sherlock, you are becoming soft aren't you? What happened to sentiment is found on the losing side?" She challenged.

"It is. Which is also why you will help me find her because if you don't, you will have helped in taking away someone that matters to me and you can't let yourself do that. You're weakness still lies with me." He responded and she looked at him as if she pitied him.

"Oh Sherlock. Maybe before, but I moved on. It's sweet that you still think that." She replied and Sherlock couldn't help but prove her wrong, his eyes darting around her, trying to find the proof that he was right.

"Your lipstick says otherwise." He replied and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Really? My lipstick?"

"You've reapplied it two, no three times and the zip on your bag isn't quite shut so you've probably refreshed it quite recently, stopping hurriedly when you saw me coming and not managing to close your bag fully, so it was for my benefit then. Then there's the dress, you claim it's for the waiter but there's a small mark on the back of it where you've recently pulled off the tag so it's a new dress, one you must have got today and especially for this occasion, the shape and cut of it shows that you're looking to impress and considering you must only be meeting me tonight then it must be me that you are aiming for. Also, when I arrived, you stood quickly, a fraction too fast and too eagerly to not be bothered by my arrival. You are getting a little careless Irene, you're much easier to read tonight, I'd lay off the wine if I were you." He stopped, reading a mixture of annoyance, embarrassment and appreciation flash onto her face before she managed to straighten her expression into her usual mask.

"If that were true Sherlock Holmes, then I wouldn't be here. I am a distraction for you, that's all I am here for and that's all he's asked me to do and I think -." She stopped and lent over to take his hand. He didn't move as she pulled his arm towards her and twisted his wrist so she could see his watch. "- that I have done my job by now." She said as she let his hand drop back onto the table and stood. "Goodbye Sherlock." She said as Sherlock mirrored her and stood, side-stepping so he blocked her as she tried to walk away.

"Just tell me one thing." He said and she raised her eyebrow at him.

"Sherlock -."

"One thing and then I'll let you go." He pressed and Irene sighed and folded her arms, her eyes telling him to continue. "Can I find her without your help?" He asked, watching her carefully.

"I know I should just walk away from you and not answer because this is one of your clever trick questions where you'll get me to tell you something without actually telling you anything but..." She took a step closer to him and fixed his gaze on her with her eyes. "No. Without help, you're lost. He's found a place that you know nothing about because you know nothing about her. You won't even know where to start." She said and Sherlock smiled.

"Thank you. You have just helped considerably even for all your protesting." He replied before turning away from her but before he could walk, he felt her hand on his arm, turning him back to her.

"Sherlock. He will kill her, you know it. Nothing you can do will prevent it. She's only alive so that you play his game but when you get too close, he won't hesitate to kill her like that other St Bart's girl." She warned and Sherlock suddenly felt very cold but he couldn't let her see that he was anxious or worried, Moriarty would find out from her and it would give him the satisfaction that Sherlock could not allow. "If you really care for her Sherlock then hurry up. He's already at the next stage of his plan or at least the part that I know." She finished and he nodded to her before pulling his arm away.

"I won't let her die Irene." He said simply, turning away and leaving her behind without another glance to her. As he walked, he felt the phone in his pocket buzz. He stopped at the door to wait for his coat and took the opportunity to read the text he had just received. It was from John.

_**'Meet me at Scotland Yard. I think I've found something. JW'**_

* * *

**So Irene finally got to have dinner with Sherlock... well, not really. **

**I hope you liked it! I am not an Adlock, fan (is that what they're called?) really but I completely get the character dynamic between them and I don't think it can be ignored which is why I wrote it quite a bit like that. If you are a Sherlolly fan, stick with it as I do adore those too and I also plan to have a bit more John and Sherlock together later on too as they've not had much time together I've realised.**

**Also want to clarify that I live in England but I am just as much a tourist when I'm in London ****as someone who doesn't** but I wanted a posh restaurant and decided to research them. If you have been to The Connaught and it's nothing like I have described a) lucky you and b) please forgive me.. :)

**Well that's my explanations done. I'm a bit nervous now so please review to calm me down! :P **


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey! Phew! You all seemed to like the last chapter which is pretty awesome! Thank you for the lovely reviews and all the follows too! Over 200 now! I'm so glad you're all liking it :) This chapter takes us back to St Bart's after what happened with Olivia...**

* * *

Tiredness was beginning to settle onto John's eyelids, making them feel heavy. It had been hours since they had gotten up early doors to see Sherlock off on the plane and now they were heading into the end of the day and John was beginning to feel it.

However, he couldn't blame his exhaustion on sheer lack of sleep, what he had seen and learnt today had all taken their toll: Moriarty returning, Molly being in trouble, a woman being shot in front of his eyes, and as he looked at his wife, who was leaning against the wall outside the staff room, he saw that she seemed just as worn out as him.

"You look tired Mary." He said quietly and she smiled at him tiredly before humming in agreement. "Why don't you go to Baker Street? You can keep Mrs Hudson company, no doubt she's worrying." He suggested and Mary looked at him with a frown.

"I want to help." She replied and John sighed.

"I know you do but you saw what just happened in there to Olivia. It's dangerous Mary and before you say anything -" he held his hands up to stop her as she opened her mouth to protest. "I know you can look after yourself but can you just let me be your husband for a minute and let me worry about you?" He finished and Mary looked at him for a moment before nodding her head slightly in defeat.

"I can take you if you want." A voice to their right surprised John and they looked around to see Dale still standing there.

"Erm... but you don't have your cab do you?" John asked and Dale took out his phone.

"Yeah, he left it outside St Bart's. Look." He replied and gave John his phone who read the message on it.

_**'Cab left outside St Bart's. Thank you, she loved the surprise.'**_

Both anger and confusion filled him as he read the text, the first emotion coming from how Moriarty was obviously trying to taunt them and the second because he had no idea what made Sherlock think Irene was back.

"How does he get 'Irene Adler' from that text?" He asked and Mary looked at it before shrugging.

"I don't know but he seemed pretty certain didn't he? You know Sherlock, they'll be something in that text that we're not clever enough to pick up on." He responded and John snorted.

"I don't even need him around anymore to be told how stupid I am." He joked and Mary hit his arm before turning to Dale.

"Baker Street then. Thanks for the lift." She said and John stepped towards them as they went to turn.

"Hold on a minute." They turned to look at him, waiting for him to elaborate but that was all he could say. He wanted to tell Mary that he thought something wasn't right, his gut was telling him that he was missing something obvious and he didn't like it but with Dale standing there, he wasn't sure how.

"It's fine John. I'll let you know as soon as I'm with Mrs Hudson okay?" Mary replied with a smile before leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his lips. John raised his eyebrow, still feeling uncertain but gave in anyway. He knew it was pointless arguing with her.

"Okay. See you later. Love you." He said, his voice still showing that he wasn't satisfied.

"Love you too you silly, over-worrying, lovely man." She replied before she and Dale walked away from them, each step they took making John feel uneasy but just as he was about to run after them, the door to the staff room opened and Lestrade stepped out to stand next to John.

"Nothing in there that's of any use to finding out who did it." He said, tiredness coming through in his voice too. "Or anything on the roof apparently. My team have been up there searching but nothing so far." Greg sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "God John, she was right in front of us. Poor girl." He looked up at John, with determination in his eyes. "We've got to get that bastard." Greg said firmly as his phone rang, prompting him to get it out answer it.

"Norman, what have you got?" He asked into the phone and walked away down the corridor just as John's attention was caught by a flash of a white coat disappearing into the door at the end of it, leading into the lab. John was sure that most of the staff in the area had been evacuated so he wondered why someone had sneaked back in. He frowned and followed, passing Greg and miming to him where he was going. Greg nodded but let him continue alone.

He slowly opened the door and looked inside. It seemed empty enough but the sound of someone rummaging in the corner made him stay in the room. As silently as he could, he walked in, wishing that he had brought his gun with him. As he reached the middle of the room, he heard a crash of something falling on the floor, followed quickly by a man cursing loudly.

John grabbed the nearest thing on the desk that he could as he moved to the room at the end that he was sure the man was in. His heart was beating but he wasn't sure why he was worried. The whole day seemed to have put his nerves on edge. He came to the door and peered round, seeing the man he had heard, crouched on the floor and grasping a laptop, paper and files around him and as John came into his view, he looked up at him with startled eyes.

John put his free hand out in a gesture of peace, hoping not to scare him into doing anything stupid but there was a wild look in the man's eyes that he had seen before and he knew what was about to come.

"Are you alright?" He asked but the man didn't answer, his hand hovering over the laptop as if unsure what to do. "Do you need any help?"

"Who are you?" The man stammered and John took a step closer.

"John Watson. I can help you if you want." He replied, regretting using his real name instantly as the fear that was in the man's eyes intensified and before John knew it, the man was running at him and he was knocked backwards onto the floor. John shouted and quickly got to his feet as the man ran over him, still clutching the laptop under his arm. He followed quickly, dodging the various pieces of equipment that the man was throwing into his path to try and slow him down. They reached the door and the man stopped for a second as if searching for another way out but John was nearing him swiftly so the man threw open the door and ran through it, thrusting it shut into John's face who tried as fast as he could to follow him through it.

To John's relief, he saw Lestrade still standing in the corridor, a look of confusion on his face as he saw the man rush past him which changed to realisation when he saw John behind him.

"Laptop. Get the laptop!" John yelled and Greg muttered something into his phone before quickly shoving it into his pocket and running after the man.

The corridor was clear except for the occasional police officer or medical staff and the man pushed these people into the middle of the floor as he passed them to try and throw Greg and John off course until one of them saw what he was doing and tried to stop him but to John's surprise, Greg yelled in protest.

"No! Let him go, just get the laptop!" He shouted and the police officer faltered in confusion giving the man a chance to wiggle his way around him. John managed to slide past the officer as Greg was held up momentarily but the man was slowing and it was becoming more and more difficult for him to manoeuvre around people that were looking at them with interest, giving John enough time to catch-up to him.

Just as the man went to turn the corner, John jumped and grabbed the man's shoulders, pulling him down onto the floor as Greg caught up to them, helping John with the struggle for the laptop and soon enough, they managed to prise it from his hands before standing up and away from him, looking down at the man's face which was even more terrified than before.

"You can go. But if there is anything on here linking you to anything that happened in there," he pointed to the laptop and then down the corridor to the staff room, "you'll answer for it. Understood?" Greg asked and the man nodded quickly. "Alright then. I'd hide if I were you." He added and the man took no time to wait, standing to his feet and running away from them like his life depended on it and when Greg turned to face John, he was faced with a look of confusion.

"Why'd you let him go?" John asked and Greg shrugged, breathless from the running.

"You saw what happened to Olivia when we cornered her and there are apparently people all over the place who are Moriarty's spies. All it would take is for one of them to tell him we've got that guy and it'd be curtains for him. This gives him a chance. And besides -." Greg nodded his head at the laptop that John was holding whilst waving a card that he held in his own hand. "We've got the laptop and I've got his ID card. We can find out his number from his records here and trace his phone." He finished and John nodded.

"Impressive." He replied and Greg pulled an 'it was nothing' face but seemed to be enjoying that John's compliment was finally directed at him and not Sherlock. John sometimes got the impression that Lestrade felt like a bit of a third wheel when he was with them on their cases. "Anyway, shall we?" John asked after a moment, waving the laptop in the air before leaning against the wall and opening it.

John smiled as he saw that the page that the man had been looking at was still up and he quickly scrolled through it, frowning as he realised that none of what he was reading made any sense to him. It was just rows and rows of numbers, none of which were linked to any kind of description or any clue to what they could mean.

"Mean anything to you?" He asked as Greg looked over his shoulder.

"Nothing. But I know someone that might." He replied and John nodded.

"I'll text him." He said, pulling out his phone.

"No, not Sherlock." Greg responded, smiling when John looked confused. "Norman. He's great at codes, especially numbers so if it's anything like that, he's our man. We'll take the laptop over to Scotland Yard now." He explained but John continued to write his text.

"I'll still tell Sherlock to meet us there. I think he'll want to know about this." He replied and Greg nodded before turning and walking down the corridor, getting his own phone out and placing it to his ear as John followed him.

"Yeah, Donovan. Whatever Norman is doing, tell him to stop and get him in my office, I need him to take a look at some numbers we've found. We'll be there soon." He paused for a minute as John heard a mumbled, reply that he couldn't make out from Sally Donovan over the phone. "He might be coming too I'm not sure yet but best behaviour if he does alright?" He responded to her and John could only guess that she had been referring to Sherlock.

"Still doesn't like him does she?" John asked and Greg rolled his eyes in response.

"He's not her favourite person no, which means I get constant grief from her whenever he's involved." He replied, shaking his head in exasperation as they walked out of St Bart's, John clutching the laptop to him and not being able to shake the feeling that someone somewhere was watching them. Now they knew that Moriarty had people all over the building, he didn't feel secure and he hated not being able to trust anyone.

* * *

**What's on the laptop? Why is it important? Is John just paranoid? All will be answered in the next chapter :P**


	14. Chapter 14

**14 chapters in and this story is still going strong and still getting follows and favourites and some more lovely, lovely reviews! Thank you again! I hope it keeps you hooked as it gets closer to the climax of the story! :)**

* * *

The office was quieter than it had been earlier in the day. Most of the staff had gone home, their computer screens black and the occasional mug with cold coffee in left next to them on the desks. However, there were still a few people dotted around and one of them was sat in the corner, hunched over the laptop that John had managed to get off the man from St Bart's.

"Donovan not here then?" John asked and Greg shook his head.  
"I thought it best she wasn't here in case Sherlock does show up and she seemed to agree with me. She's finding out the phone number of the guy who tried to take the laptop and then she's going to try and track it." He responded before folding his arms and nodding his head towards the man who was staring at the laptop intently. "So Norman's helping us out with this."

John had had to get over his initial dislike of Norman, he hadn't really any reason to take offence to him except that he had been careless and bumped into Mary but she was okay and Norman had apologised, he supposed. Plus, Greg had spent quite a lot of the journey over explaining what a bright young man he was and if he could help find Molly, then John just had to get over it.

"Anything?" Lestrade asked, standing behind Norman and leaning on the wall. The second man tipped his head from side to side and made an uncertain noise.

"Not sure yet. There's some sort of pattern to it that I've figured out but it might not even be code." He replied but continued to look at the screen even so.

John waited a little impatiently and kept checking his phone for any sign that Sherlock was on his way. He really hoped that Irene hadn't managed to distract him from what was happening. She was very good at manipulating anyone, even Sherlock to an extent, even if the man in question wouldn't admit it and after John had had time to compute who exactly Sherlock was running off to meet, he had wished he had either stopped him or gone with him.

"Is there nothing that we can be doing while we're waiting?" John asked impatiently, starting to feel useless standing around waiting for Norman and a familiar voice from behind them answered him.

"Yes. You can help me." John rolled his eyes as he saw his friend walk into the room, his long coat flicking behind him and if he wasn't feeling a little short-tempered, he would have laughed at Sherlock's dramatic entrance.

"I thought you would have been too busy with Irene to meet us considering she was important enough to run off for so quickly." John said, earning a raised eyebrow from Sherlock.

"I was researching and it actually happened to be quite a useful meeting." He replied and John folded his arms.

"Why? What did you find out?" He asked, a little more interested but Sherlock shook his head.

"You first. What have you found?" He asked but his eyes were already on Norman hunched over the laptop in the corner and even before John had begun speaking, Sherlock began to make his way over.

"A guy at St Bart's was trying to get it out of the lab. We chased him and managed to grab it but all we found were a bunch of numbers on a document." John explained as Sherlock lent over Norman's shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the screen.

"We thought it could be code so I thought Norman could have a look at it. He's quite good with them." Greg said from where he was standing and Sherlock looked at Norman with interest.

"Are you really?" He asked, almost sarcastically but Norman didn't seem to pick up on it.

"I'm alright." He shrugged. "Usually anyway but this one is tricky. It looks like there's three separate sections to it. Look." He pointed at a part of the screen and Sherlock seemed hesitant to move his eyes from the young man but did so anyway and it made John wonder what it was about him that had caught Sherlock's attention. "Each line is split into three parts. The last section is obviously a date." Sherlock nodded as he spoke as if it was entirely obvious. "But the first two I can't make out. A lot of them have pattern but then some break it completely." He finished and Sherlock stood up straight.

"Hmm. All very interesting but has anyone actually stopped to wonder or even check who this laptop belongs to?" He asked, his eyes darting between the three of them, the silence that followed seeming to rub Sherlock's ego. "John you should recognise it by the amount of times we see it and especially so when you think on where you found it." He added and John thought for a moment, not sure where Sherlock was going with his lesson until it clicked in his head.

"Molly. It's Molly's laptop." He replied and Sherlock nodded.

"The same model and colour but there's also a few scratches on the top right hand corner where she dropped it once after I startled her coming into the lab but you wouldn't need to pick up on that to know it's hers if you had just looked on her desktop." He walked around to the side of Norman as he spoke and turned the laptop at an angle that meant both John and Greg could see it. "Her wallpaper..." He clicked the mouse and the document with the numbers disappeared leaving behind a picture of a cat. "Is a picture of her cat." He finished, waiting for one of them to respond.

"So why was there a man trying to steal Molly's laptop and what is that code doing on there?" Greg asked and Sherlock shook his head.

"First, we don't know it's code, most probably isn't, just a form of documentation and second, the more important thing at the moment is using the laptop to find her." He replied, bending back towards the laptop and pulling it towards him. Norman looked at Sherlock with a surprised expression before pushing his chair back away from the table, giving him space.

"And how do we do that?" Greg asked.

"I asked Irene if I could find Molly without help and she said that I couldn't." He replied and waited for acknowledgement to his words but neither John nor Greg responded, causing Sherlock to roll his eyes at them. "Isn't it obvious? It means that Moriarty must have taken her somewhere personal to her, somewhere that she hasn't told us about but that he probably managed to find out about when he dated her." He replied and Greg frowned.

"So that's true then? Molly and Moriarty?" He retorted, looking both confused and a little repulsed.

"She didn't know who he was at the time and he only dated her to get to me." Sherlock replied impatiently, not giving anytime for Greg to respond before he spoke again. "There might be something on this laptop that points to where she could be. Pictures, emails, a diary entry. I notice sometimes that she shuts her laptop rather quickly when I enter the lab unannounced. Probably to try and stop me reading something that she is writing. I would guess that it's her diary."

"Diary? You're not seriously going to read her diary are you?" John asked, worried what personal things he would read that Molly probably didn't want Sherlock to know about.

"If reading it would help me find her would it bother you then?" Sherlock replied and John didn't answer, knowing that he couldn't argue with his point. Instead, they all watched as he clicked the mouse silently, his eyes darting around the screen. "Ah, got it. If I can find the entries at the time that Moriarty was tricking her then we might find something." He added and John switched his weight uncomfortably, feeling uncertain about what they were doing until he decided to speak.

"Wait Sherlock, stop." John moved over to him and placed his hand on the mouse to stop Sherlock from using it any further. This earned him an irritated look. "Let me read it instead." He said and the irritation turned to confusion.

"Why?" He asked, obviously oblivious to what John was trying to do.

"I know you're trying to help her but I still don't think we should be invading her privacy. Especially you." He replied, his voice quiet but it was practically impossible to keep what he was saying from the other's in a room so empty. "Just, let me look and anything that could be useful, I'll read out." He suggested and Sherlock looked at him with an unreadable expression which went on long enough to start making John feel uncomfortable until suddenly, Sherlock stepped away from the table.

"Be my guest." He said, extending his hand towards the laptop. John didn't move for a moment, a little taken aback that Sherlock had given in so quickly.

"Really?" He asked and Sherlock clasped his hands behind his back as he nodded.

"I shouldn't pry. You're right, it was inconsiderate of me to invade Molly's privacy." He said simply and John let out a noise of amused disbelief.

"So you agree with me? Well that's a first." He muttered under his breath, catching Sherlock smile slightly before he bent over the laptop himself and began to scroll upwards, trying to read as little as he could and only looking for Moriarty's name until he finally saw it. "There we go. 'So, today was the third date with Jim.'" John read out and Sherlock began to pace slowly, his expression one of concentration.

"That will be it. Molly said that they only went on three dates. She's quite a secretive person and it would have taken that long to have found out any real information from her. If she told him anything very personal, it would have been then." He said and John took that as his queue to search the entry, feeling utterly horrible that he was having to read this at all, especially as what she was writing seemed to suggest that she was quite happy with the situation and still blissfully unaware of who 'Jim' really was.

"This could be something." John said after a while of silence and at his words, he heard Greg move from where he was to walk closer to him. "'We talked about me a lot, as usual. He rarely speaks about himself though, which I suppose means he's a good listener so I can't be too judgemental, but tonight I seemed to do all the talking. I even talked about being a kid and everything that happened with Dad and Mum which I hardly ever do.'" John stopped as Sherlock suddenly froze mid-pace.

"Of course!" He shouted, throwing his hands up to his temples and scrunching his face up in concentration and the sudden change in his stance seemed to have captured Norman's attention too.

"Is he alright?" Norman asked, looking in concern at Sherlock.

"Mind-palace." John replied simply and Sherlock waved his hand aimlessly at them, his eyes still closed.

"Carry on, carry on." He urged and John returned his gaze back to the laptop.

"'He let me talk about it for ages and it was nice to do, to finally get everything that happened off my chest. He was really sympathetic and lovely as usual. Ugh, Molly, he's the perfect man, why are you just get over -.'" John stopped abruptly, his eyes catching Sherlock's name a few words down and he thought it best not to continue. He couldn't embarrass her, even if she wasn't there to witness it.

"Moriarty, a '_Lovely man'?_" Greg muttered, repeating Molly's words sarcastically.

"Good actor." John replied. "Believe me, we've seen it. His Richard Brook almost had me going."

"Attention on me, this is important." Sherlock announced suddenly, his eyes open again and an energy in them that told John he was onto something.

"Has Molly ever mentioned her childhood to either of you?" He asked and John and Greg looked at each other before shaking their heads. "She has to me. Once." Sherlock continued, carrying on his pacing from before but this time at a quicker speed. "She spoke of her Father and I could tell that the memory hurt her. She was fond of him, incredibly so but he died and it pained her deeply. However, her Mother she never mentioned and even the way she referred to them in that diary entry shows who she preferred. She wrote, 'Dad and Mum' when the norm is usually the other way around. She is not close to her Mother, not at all." Sherlock ran his hand through his hair as he spoke, his words quickening in pace as they tumbled out of his mouth. "And when she was engaged, the one thing she seemed intent on telling me was that Tom got along with his family. She mentioned it at least twice in a very short space of time so it's obviously important to her. Family is important to her. I think her Father's death hurt her more than I originally saw. It must have torn her family apart, separating her and her Mother so all the happy memories would be painful to her now which is why she never speaks of them. So Moriarty must have found out about it and now have her somewhere connected to her childhood." He finished finally and Greg frowned at him.

"And why the hell is that? Even if that is the case about her parents, why would Moriarty think of taking her somewhere to do with it?" Lestrade asked and Sherlock made an annoyed noise and looked at him as if he were stupid.

"Did you not hear what I said? Irene told me that I would need help in finding Molly. She also said that it was because I know nothing about her and regrettably, she is right, I don't. Not nearly as much as I should." Sherlock stopped for a moment, a flicker of regret appearing on his face but for only the shortest of seconds until it was gone again. "Plus, Moriarty would not be able to resist the opportunity to torment her and all of that points to keeping her in a place from her childhood." He finished and Greg sighed.

"Okay, so where do we start?" He asked.

"Her home." John replied quietly and Sherlock looked at him, his silence telling him to continue. "He'll have her in a place that reminds her of all that and where else better than where she lived as a kid?"

"Exactly. John, I'm rubbing off on you." Sherlock replied, a smile on his face and John could tell that even he couldn't hide the happiness that he was feeling at them finally managing to make some progress on Molly's whereabouts. "And to find the home, we have to find her Mother."

"Her Mother? But she could be anywhere." Lestrade responded and Sherlock walked towards him.

"And you have the London police at your disposal and apparently, the best member of your team is in this very room. Why don't you use him and his brilliant skills to find her?" He replied and Lestrade looked at him with an irritated expression before sighing in exasperation.

"Norman, research everything you can on Molly Hooper. I'll try to get some contacts to help me out too, God knows I'm owed some favours." Greg said, pulling his phone out and turning his back to walk to the corner of the room. Sherlock in turn made his way over to John, an energy in him that made John feel more confident that before.

"And what do we do?" He asked and Sherlock moved in closer to him before replying.

"The code." He replied in a hushed voice, his gaze flicking around the room, glancing at the various people working and resting on Norman for a moment before returning back to John.

"But you said it wasn't code."

"Part of it is, the second part. Replace each letter of the alphabet with a number and it spells out a word, most probably a name. The last part is a date and the first part I have a theory about." He waited and John raised his eyebrows at him.

"So? What is it?"

"Too soon to tell. I need more data." He replied before suddenly frowning and looking around the room, a look of confusion on his face. "Where's Mary?" He asked out of the blue.

"I sent her to Baker Street to keep Mrs Hudson company. Why?" He replied and Sherlock made a disappointed noise.

"She could have been useful." Sherlock muttered and the thought of Mary made John remember the earlier conversation they had had before she left.

"Sherlock, I know you're going to point out that I'm being stupid, naïve and brain-dead but I have to ask. How on earth did you figure out that Irene wanted to meet you from that text Dale got?" He asked and Sherlock looked a little surprised before a look of disbelief filled his features.

"Really John? Even for you it mustn't be too hard to figure out." He replied, sighing when John just continued to look at him blankly. "Let's have dinner?" He said, posing the sentence as a question and the tone of his voice suggesting that that was obviously all John needed to understand. When he still didn't respond, Sherlock began to look amused. "Do you not remember that's what she used to write: 'let's have dinner'." He added and John shook his head slowly, drawing out the first word he spoke in reply.

"No. I read the text and it was fairly generic, nothing about dinner anywhere." He responded and Sherlock's expression suddenly turned to stone, causing something to stir in John's stomach that made him feel uneasy.

"How did you read the text she sent?" Sherlock asked, his voice too calm for John's liking.

"Dale's phone. He showed it to me. It said that the cab was outside St Bart's and then had some annoying joke that I'm sure Moriarty found hilar-"

"How did Mary get to Baker Street?" Sherlock interrupted, his tone firm and he took another step closer to John.

"Dale took her, why? What are you -?" John stopped, his heart dropping and his mouth drying up as he began to put everything together in his head.

"Sherlock. Is Dale part of Moriarty's group?" John asked, trying to keep the dread that he was feeling from showing in his voice by mirroring Sherlock's calm tone but he could feel the volume of his speech rising slowly. "Did I send my wife into a cab with a member of Moriarty's group?"

"Possibly." Sherlock replied simply and John cursed loudly, all heads turning to him but he didn't care.

"God Sherlock, she's pregnant! If he hurts her so help me I will..." His words trailed off and he made an angry noise before carrying on. "Where the hell is he taking her?!" John shouted and Sherlock put his hands on John's shoulders, forcing him to look at him.

"John. We'll find her. Let's go to Baker Street, she could still be there, we don't know yet." Sherlock replied and John let out a breath before looking at Sherlock, trying to find the strength not to lose control. After a moment, he nodded and managed to calm himself as much as he could.

"I swear Sherlock, if anything happens to her -."

"It won't, trust me. We'll find them John. Both of them."

* * *

**So you were right! Dale is a bad man! Or is he just misguided? Or taken in by Moriarty's... awesomeness?**

**Did anyone get the two different texts on Dale's phone? My friend read it and when I told her when 'ooooooh yeah!' so I'm intrigued. :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**So most of you guessed that Dale was part of the group... Poor Dale, I know he's working for the wrong guy but I do feel a bit sorry for him. :) Thank you all again for your reviews and follows! It's just awesome! After this chapter, it will be the most amount of chapters that I've had in a fanfic so that's cool! :) I'm just glad that so many people like it!**

* * *

"She's not answering her phone." John huffed, tapping it in annoyance to try ringing Mary again. Sherlock was sat next to him in the back of a cab, his calm exterior only making John feel more worried. He could see that he was starting to treat Mary as just another victim, collecting the data in his head as they made their way to Baker Street.

"You've already tried ringing her five times, I would say the likelihood of her answering the sixth time is fairly low." Sherlock mumbled, raising his hands to rest under his chin. John looked at him in irritation before sighing and putting his phone back in his pocket, making sure that it was close enough to him that he would feel it should it ring.

"What if she's not at Baker Street and we're wasting our time travelling over there when we could be trying to find her?" John asked and Sherlock closed his eyes as he answered.

"We are trying to find her. However the other alternative would be to sit around pointlessly and wait for Moriarty to contact us. Which option do you prefer?" Sherlock responded and John pressed his lips together, the silence making Sherlock make a hum that sounded like 'I told you so'.

The rest of the journey passed in silence as Sherlock's body language told him that he didn't want to be disturbed. Every second ticked by horribly slowly until finally, they reached Baker Street and even before the cab had come to a complete stop, John had stood up and opened the door, skipping out and jogging to 221b, hearing Sherlock behind him telling the cab driver to wait for their return.

John sprinted up the stairs, Sherlock now close behind him and threw open the door to his old flat. He glanced around quickly and called out Mary's name but there was no reply. Still calling, he checked the different rooms but there was no-one around. He began to feel fear fill him as he heard his former landlady's voice coming from the front room.

"Sherlock, what's going on?" She asked, sounding as worried as John felt. "It's all over the news that that horrible man's back and I've not heard a peep from anyone! Would it kill you just to tell me what's -?"

"Mrs Hudson, have you seen Mary recently?" Sherlock interrupted and John strode back into the room to hear her reply. His worrying was only justified as she shook her head.

"Mary? No, not today. I've not seen her some quite some time actually or any of you for that -."

"Have you heard from anyone today? Anyone at all?" Sherlock said, cutting her off again.

"No, no-one, that's what I'm saying; no-one ever tells me what's happening!"

"It doesn't have to be someone you know. Has anyone, anyone at all, been here today?" He asked urgently and Mrs Hudson thought for a moment before shrugging.

"There was a woman just before you arrived asking me about that empty flat downstairs. I took her down but she didn't seem too interested. Don't blame her really, she looked too posh for that damp old place." She replied and Sherlock stepped towards her to take her by the shoulders, making her jump a little.

"Did she have dark hair that was pinned up? Red lipstick and nails and was she wearing a black dress covered by a long coat?" He asked and Mrs Hudson raised her eyebrows at him before nodding slowly.

"It was a bit perculiar now you mention it, she asked me to let her have a quick look by herself and then left fairly quickly. Not to mention that it was getting quite late when she came. She didn't leave me a number or anything." She said and Sherlock let go of her before moving quickly to the staircase, shouting as he began to run down it.

"I need to go downstairs. Bring your keys!"

"Oh really. That man will be the death of me all this running up and down stairs." Mrs Hudson muttered before she looked at John who was stood in the middle of the room, the realisation that Mary was in trouble paralysing him. "Are you alright dear?" She asked and John blinked at her before clearing his throat and forcing a smile on his face. It would do no good to worry her any further.

"Fine Mrs Hudson. Just fine." He replied before following Sherlock down the stairs and hearing Mrs Hudson behind him, complaining under her breath about Sherlock and John's strange behaviour.

When they met Sherlock at the door, he was practically bouncing with anticipation, his eagerness to get into the room blatant in his posture and when Mrs Hudson finally unlocked the door, he barged in, stopping only for a second to glance around the empty room before moving into the bedroom. John and Mrs Hudson waited for him in the main room, John recalling the last time they were in there and when it had led them to meet Moriarty for the first time.

"I knew it! You just couldn't help yourself Irene Adler!" Sherlock's voice exclaimed and John's curiosity got the better of him, causing him to walk into the room where Sherlock was.

"What? What is it?" John asked and Sherlock turned to face him, his eyes glittering as he held up a small piece of paper in his hand.

"Pressure point." Sherlock announced, stabbing the air with the piece of paper.

"What?" John asked, utterly unsure as to how that would help them find either Molly or Mary.

"She's written those two words down. 'Pressure point'. She's made me remember something that I tucked away in my mind. She tried to tell me at dinner too. When I asked her what Moriarty had on her she replied, 'my pressure point you mean?' Ugh, stupid!" He scrunched the paper up and spun in a circle, bringing his hands up to his head as he scolded himself before he stopped suddenly and moved towards John so that he was only inches away from him.

"We have him." He whispered and John shook his head to show he had no clue what Sherlock was on about. "Moriarty. We have him."

"Right." John responded, the look on Sherlock's face telling him that that was a much smaller reaction than he had hoped for. "We might have him but there are two people that we still don't have Sherlock. Mary and Molly!" He raised his voice and his words seemed to trigger a change in Sherlock's expression. He took a step back and closed his eyes, bringing the hand which was still clutching the scrunched up piece of paper up to rest on his face.

"Of course." He muttered before opening his eyes again, the wild look in them now no longer visible. "Sorry. Got a bit carried away."

"Yes, you did. Now please can we try and find my wife and our friend?" John asked, his voice passionate as he heard Mrs Hudson hurry into the room they were in.

"What was that about Mary and Molly? Are they alright?" She cried and Sherlock shook his hand at her.

"Not now Mrs Hudson." He replied before getting out his phone. "I need to make a move to force Moriarty to play and what Irene has given us will help me." He looked up at John and saw the worry in his eyes. "It's the only way that Moriarty will possibly give us a clue as to where they are. I need to back him into a corner."

"I hope you know what you're doing." John sighed and Sherlock smiled at him before looking down to type on his phone.

"I always know what I'm doing." He replied before hitting the send button. John moved around to look over his shoulder to see what the message said.

_**'I know your 'pressure point'. SH'**_

They both waited in anticipation for only a few moments until Sherlock's phone buzzed, a reply popping up on the screen.

_**'Good, you're finally getting there. Well, let's see how clever you really are. If you know where Mary and Molly are, come and get them. JM' **_

John looked up at Sherlock after he read the text and saw that he was staring intently at the phone until a buzzed once more.

_**'Oh and you have thirty minutes before the houses go boom. JM'**_

They both read the second message in silence before John registered one word in particular, making his stomach twist in a knot.

"_'Houses'_. Sherlock, he doesn't just have Molly in a house, he has Mary in a different house somewhere, that's what that means. He's rigged them up. Sherlock, you said you knew what you were doing and now he's going to -." He said, beginning to feel panic set in but Sherlock took a step towards him, the intensity of his stare stopping him losing control as he interrupted him.

"John, I know where Mary is but you're not going to like why." He said quietly and John frowned, unsure of what Sherlock was talking about and why they were wasting any time. If he knew where she was, why were they just standing there?

"I don't care right now Sherlock. If you know where she is then let's go and get her!" He shouted and Sherlock nodded before turning to Mrs Hudson.

"Please would you give us a moment Mrs Hudson? Keep yourself safe in your flat, it'll all be fine." He said and she looked at him worriedly before nodding and shuffling out of the room. When she left, Sherlock looked back at John who was beginning to feel more anxious with each second that he was wasting time explaining.

"What is it?" He asked eventually and Sherlock sighed.

"Moriarty has done the same thing to Mary as he has to Molly. He's taken her to a place that she would rather forget, a place that brings back too many memories. He did it knowing that the only way I could find her would be to tell you how I know where the house is that she is in." He stopped and took a breath, causing John to raise his eyebrow at him. "I read the files that were on the USB that Mary gave to you." He said, looking at John carefully who felt as if he had just been hit but hadn't began to feel the pain of it yet. "I was curious, far too curious. Everytime I looked at Mary, my mind would race, trying to figure out everything it could about her and I couldn't rest knowing that all of my suspicions could be answered just by looking at that USB."

"So..." John began, closing his eyes and rubbing them with his hand before opening them again. "Everyone knows about my wife's past, except for me?"

"You did have the chance to find out but you passed it up." Sherlock retorted and John shot him a look.

"I didn't -." He yelled before stopping and exhaling sharply to calm himself. "I'm not having this argument now Sherlock. Later yes, definitely later, but not now. Just...just find her." He said firmly and Sherlock nodded as his phone went again. He opened the message and they both looked at it.

_**'Tick tock. Better hurry. JM'**_

As they read the message, Sherlock's phone began to ring in his hand, the screen showing Lestrade's name. Sherlock looked at John, his expression clearly showing that he was figuring out whether he would be punched if they wasted anymore time. After a second, he held his finger up and flicked his screen, obviously deciding that it was worth the risk.

"What have you got?" He asked and John could hear Lestrade's muffled voice reply, his words causing a smile to suddenly appear on Sherlock's face.

"Brilliant! Meet me there and send a team over to 6 Bradburn Street. John will be there to meet you. That's where he's keeping Mary." He finished, not giving Lestrade anytime to reply before he shut his phone and looked at John. "That's where you need to go. 6 Bradburn Street, take the cab that brought us here." Sherlock said urgently and John turned immediately for the exit before he stopped and turned back to face his friend.

"What about you?" He asked as Sherlock tucked the small piece of paper into his pocket before flipping up the collar of his coat.

"Lestrade managed to find Molly's mother who told us their old address. I'm going to go and get Molly."

* * *

**I'm again interested to know what you think of this as I was really thinking about the Mary thing and I just thought with Sherlock not being able to help but deduce everything about everyone, it would drive him insane not knowing about Mary... Plus it helps him on his way to finding her so that's good :)**

**PLUS he's on his way to Molly! YAY! **

**And Irene helped too!**

**WOOOOO! :) I just hope you share my WOOOOOO! :P**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey you awesome people! Everyone seemed to really like the last chapter which is awesome so thank you! I'm sorry too that my update was later than usual. I'm afraid that might happen again but I'll try not to keep you waiting too long! My life has just gone pretty crazy in the space of a few days so time to get on my computer is a bit limited but here is an update to tie you over for a while! Hope you like it! :)**

* * *

It hadn't taken long for Mary to realise the mistake she had made. Only a short moment after she had got into the cab with Dale had she noticed the on edge look in his eyes and the nervousness of his voice and posture. The man had been practically silent the whole day but as soon as they were driving away from St Bart's, he was producing more small talk than she had ever heard. She had seen enough people in her past and done enough herself to know when someone was building themselves up to doing something they didn't want to do.

And then the text message that she and John had read on Dale's phone twigged in her mind. John had been right to suspect, there was no way that even Sherlock could have possibly figured out who that text was from. It must have been a different text that he had read, one that lured him away from the building and away from John and Mary.

It must have been the baby brain that made her ignore all the signs, all the things that were pointing to Dale being in on the plot and now as she sat in the cab, all doors around her locked, she was mentally cursing herself for her stupidity. She was better than that.

"Where are we going?" Mary asked, her voice clear enough that Dale could hear it easily through the glass partition. She could see him look at her nervously through the mirror.

"Baker Street wasn't it?" He asked and Mary nodded slowly.

"Yeah but where are we actually going? Where is Moriarty getting you to take me?" She asked and the calm tone of her voice seemed to throw the driver as he began to stammer out a response.

"Erm. I don't... I don't know what -."

"Don't play dumb. I figured out that you're part of his group so now you don't have to surprise me or apologise for what you're about to do. Just tell me where we're going." She interrupted and he immediately moved his gaze away from hers and fixed it on the road ahead.

"I can't say." He mumbled and Mary sighed and sat back in her chair, trying to draw on everything that she had learnt from her time as an assassin, figuring out ways of getting out of the cab or ways of pulling Dale out of the driver's position. It wouldn't take too much effort or time really, but then she remembered: She was pregnant and to risk herself would be to risk her baby and she knew that she couldn't do that.

And that complicated things a little.

It had been too long for Molly's liking since Moriarty had been in the room. She had been alone, she assumed, for quite some time and it unnerved he as she tried to imagine what game he was playing and what danger he was planning for Sherlock in his absence.

She had also been in the house far too long now. The walls were starting to feel like they were closing in on her, the happy memories of her childhood suffocating her and occasionally bringing fresh tears that she had to choke down to keep herself calm. The clock on the fireplace ticked but time seemed to move at a slower pace to it's constant rhythm. Time didn't appear to be on Molly's side today.

She had spent a lot of time thinking, trying to keep her thoughts fixed away from her childhood but the downside to that was that it meant her mind wandered to other places that she would rather not think about. Frequently, she scolded herself for not being a better judge of character. Part of her could hardly believe that she was now the prisoner of a man that she had once trusted and liked, maybe even liked a little too much. Moriarty was right even if she tried to deny it, he had had her exactly where he needed her and if it hadn't had been for Sherlock's brutal deduction, that at the time made her hate him, she probably would never have broke it off.

Molly laughed to herself at the thought. Sherlock had inadvertently saved her from Moriarty even when he hadn't been trying and yet here she was, actually in real danger with no sign of him anywhere.

Molly sighed, beginning to feel hope fade from her slowly. Her only hope was Sherlock but he had no idea that this place existed because he never took the time to get to know her and in turn, Molly never opened up enough to anyone so that they could truly get to know her anyway. She just hoped that there was something that he had noticed, something only Sherlock could pick up on, that would lead him to her.

A noise outside the door snapped her away from her thoughts and made her turn abruptly, her long hair flicking round her shoulders as she faced her back to the window to look at the entrance to the room.

"Still here then?" Moriarty's voice asked loudly from the next room before he walked slowly through the door and became visible to Molly, his hands in his trouser pockets and his head down and facing the floor as he moved. "You are an obedient hostage you know. It's like keeping a frightened little hamster trapped in a cage that never tries to gnaw it's way out." He shrugged and turned so that he was walking towards her. "Some people, lazy people, might say that it makes it easy for me but I just find it tedious." He looked up at her and she felt herself shrink again, his eyes on hers, all warmth that she remembered from when he was merely 'Jim' replaced by a cold darkness. "I mean seriously, you've not even tried to escape or fight back or plea for your freedom. What is wrong with you? Why don't you make it entertaining and just DO SOMETHING!" He yelled as suddenly as he moved, his face so close to hers that it didn't take much for her to do what her instincts made her do. The sudden shout in her face had made her jump and almost as if following his order, she swiped her hand to it hit him across the face, snapping his head to his side with a crack. The silence that followed made the realisation of what Molly had just done all the worse for her and the hand that had hit him flew to her mouth in shock as she hardly dared to breathe, watching his expression carefully and her stomach knotting as she saw him smile and turn back to face her slowly.

"Well." He paused. "That's better. At a girl." He said, his voice as dangerous as his expression and Molly wished that the house would swallow her and take her away from his gaze but it seemed that the sound of a message on his phone would be the lifeline given to her. He looked mildly irritated for a moment before groaning and stepping back away from her, pulling out his phone and looking at it as if it had just offended him.

"Really? Why does that always happen when it's just getting good?" He sighed and flicked his finger over the phone, his eyes scanning it before a small smile touched at the side of his lips. He looked up at Molly again and put the phone in his pocket before stepping back towards her. "I hope you enjoyed your blast from the past little Molly Hooper, because it's time for you to pack up and go."

The smell of coffee filled Greg's senses, making him inhale deeply to get as much of it as he could. He held his mug in his hand, wishing that it could make him feel both less tired and also magically make him have a super power that could help him find people. It had been about twenty minutes since Sherlock left and Greg had done the best he could, managing to find enough people who were willing to help him at such short notice. Norman had managed to search through Molly's records and found a name for her Mother. It was the start that they had needed but it was only a start and something was telling him that time was running out.

The phone on the desk rang and Lestrade walked over to it and placed his coffee down next to it before picking up the phone, his voice sounding more tired than he even thought he was when he answered it.

"Detective Inspector Lestrade."

"We found her Sir. It took some persuading and begging, especially considering how late it is but we found Diane Hooper. She currently lives in Aquitaine in France." A woman's voice said at the end of the phone who Lestrade recognised as one of the many members of staff he had woken up or disturbed that night.

"In France?!" Greg exclaimed, running his hand through his hair. "Well that's useful." He mumbled sarcastically. "Do we have her number?"

"We do. I'm emailing it over to you now." She replied and Greg sighed in relief.

"Well that's something. Thank you. I owe you big time." He said before putting the phone down and walking to his computer, clicking on his emails and opening the one he just received and the number he needed flashed on the screen. Without hesitation, he reached for his phone and dialled it, each ring that he heard making him more and more nervous that she wouldn't pick up and that they would be back to square one but soon enough, he heard a silence followed by the sound of a woman's voice that sounded just as timid as Molly's.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is that Diane Hooper?" Lestrade asked, clearing his throat beforehand and suddenly feeling a little nervous that he was speaking to Molly's mother. He hadn't figured out what he was going to say to her. Would he tell her that her daughter was in trouble or would that just distress her pointlessly? Especially considering that she was so far away.

"Speaking." She replied.

"My name is Detective Inspector Lestrade." He began before remembering that he was talking to her from a different country. "I work in Scotland Yard in London." He added a little uncertainly.

"Detective Lestrade?" She said his name as a question as if she recognised it. "Is this about Molly? She mentions you sometimes."

"Does she?" He asked before clearing his throat again. "Well, that's nice to know. But erm, yes I am, I am ringing about her."

"What can I help you with Detective? Is she alright?" She asked, beginning to sound a little worried and although Lestrade wanted to spare her any unnecessary panic, he knew that the quickest way to find out what he wanted was to tell her the truth.

"I wish I could say otherwise but I'm afraid not. I'm sorry to say that she is missing, Mrs Hooper." He replied and silence met him on the other end of the phone, prompting him to continue. "We have reason to believe that the man known as Jim Moriarty has her in your past home and I was hoping that you could give us the address so that we could find her. I am terribly sorry that I couldn't break this news to you in a more delicate way Mrs Hooper but right now, we need to find your daughter as quickly as possible." He held his breath, hoping that she wouldn't break down and that he wouldn't have to deal with a crying Mother when he needed to be searching for Molly.

"Jim Moriarty is that man from the television isn't he? The one that supposedly died a few years ago. What does he want with Molly?" She asked, her voice surprisingly calm but Lestrade heard a slight tremble in it that told him he had to tread carefully.

"We aren't sure Mrs Hooper." He lied a little, hoping to spare explanations and time. "But Molly's friend Sherlock Holmes thinks that she is in your old family home. She may have mentioned Sherlock to you and if she has then you know why we need that address. He is rarely ever wrong." He waited again as another silence met him but soon enough, she replied, the tremble in her voice worse and he knew that she was crying.

"Of course, of course." She mumbled before clearing her throat and letting out a sigh. "26 Ravenstone Street, Balham. That's the address. That's our old home."

"Thank you Mrs Hooper." He replied gratefully, eager to tell Sherlock straight away and to finally get Molly away from Moriarty but before he could begin his farewell, Diane spoke again.

"Please find her Detective. Even if I don't see her as much as I like, she is all I have and I can't lose her too." She said and Lestrade could hear her sorrow in her tone.

"I will try my very best Mrs Hooper. She means a lot to me and to everyone else who is desperately trying to look for her. We won't rest until we find her." He replied and the phone clicked as Diane ended the call. Without wasting another moment, Lestrade pulled out his phone and rang Sherlock and it didn't take long for him to answer.

"What have you got?"

"Well, we found Mrs Hooper and I have Molly's address. 26 Ravenstone Street in Balham." He said quickly, already using his spare hand to grab his coat off the back of the chair he was stood near.

"Brilliant! Meet me there and send a team over to 6 Bradburn Street. John will be there to meet you. That's where he's keeping Mary." Sherlock replied and Greg frowned as he heard the beep of the call ending in his ear, registering that now they had two people to worry about and not just one. Greg shook his head in disbelief before walking out into the main room where now only Norman stood as everyone else, as few of them as they were, seemed to have left.

"Where is everyone? I need a team to go to an address to get Mary." Lestrade said, annoyed and Norman shrugged.

"They all went home. Thought they were done for the day."

"I never said that." Greg sighed before shrugging the rest of his coat on. "Never mind, I'll get Donovan to go for Mary, we have to go and get Molly. I've got the address from her Mother." He said and walked to the door but stopped before he pushed it open as he realised that Norman was not following him. "Come on then." He pressed but Norman didn't move and the look on his face made Greg suddenly feel dread wash over him.

"I'm afraid we're not going anywhere Sir." Norman said coldly before he moved his hand that he had behind his back so that Lestrade could see it. His eyes widened and he sighed in exasperation at how blind he had been as he saw that Norman was now pointing a gun straight at him.

* * *

**Kay, so put your hands up if you suspected Norman too! :P And Molly slapping Moriarty... completely not in the same way she slapped Sherlock, not as bad ass, but still! What do you think? Let me know! :)**


End file.
